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I 


PLAYS  OF  OUR 
FOREFATHERS 


Hell-Mouth  and  Interior,  from  a  Fresco  at  Stratfortl-upon-Avon 
From   "A    indentation   <>n    th«-   Pageants  or   Urania  tic   Mysteries 
Anciently    Performed  at    Cuvtiitrv" 


PLAYS    OF    OUR 
FOREFATHERS 

AND   SOME  OF  THE 

TRADITIONS    UPON 

WHICH  THEY  WERE 

FOUNDED 


EY 

CHARLES  MILLS  GAYLEY 

LITT.D.,  LL.D. 

Professor  of  the  English  Language  and  Literature 
in  the  University  of  California 


Copyright, 
By  Fox,  DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


Copyright, 
By  DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


THE   UNIVERSITY   MESS,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


College 
Library 


G,  9-5 


PREFACE 

I  HAVE  hoped  that  the  reading  public  might  be  inter- 
ested in  the  mediaeval  drama,  not  only  as  an  instance  of 
the  development  of  literary  art,  but  as  a  chronicle  of  the 
ideals  and  traditions,  the  religious  consciousness,  the 
romance  and  humour  of  times  that  seem  to  be  remote, 
but  after  all  are  modern  in  a  myriad  surprising  ways,  and 
human  to  the  core.  To  laugh  and  weep,  to  worship 
and  to  revel  for  a  season,  in  the  manner  and  spirit  of 
our  ancestors,  were  infinitely  more  pleasing  than  the 
pride  of  controversy  or  the  pursuit  of  scientific  ends. 
If  I  have  sometimes  used  mere  reverence,  fellow-feeling, 
and  imagination  to  reconstruct  these  plays  and  times,  I 
trust  the  scholar  will  sympathise  and  condone ;  if  I  have 
in  places  turned  source-hunter  and  advocate,  I  know  the 
genial  reader  will  skip. 

My  indebtedness  to  authorities  is,  I  think,  sufficiently 
indicated  in  the  body  of  the  book.  For  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  index  I  take  great  pleasure  in  expressing  my 
obligation  to  my  former  pupil  and  present  colleague, 
Mr.  G.  A.  Smithson,  of  the  University  of  California. 

BERKELEY,  July  20,  1907. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I 

THE   ORIGIN    OF   THE    MEDIEVAL    DRAMA  pAGE 

The  Disappearance  of  the  Ancient  Drama I 

The  Germ  of  the  Modern  :    Religious 2 

The  Occasion  :    Festivals. of  the  Church 5 

CHAPTER    II 
THE    EVOLUTION    OF   LITURGICAL    PLAYS 

From  the  Resurrection  Trope 14 

From  the  Christmas  Trope 24 

From  Tropes  of  Advent,  Ascension,  and  Pentecost 28 

CHAPTER   III 

THE   INVASION   OF   THE    HUMOROUS 

The  Feast  of  the  Ass 33 

The  Feast  of  Fools 47 

CHAPTER   IV 

THE    BOY    BISHOP   AND   THE   ST.   NICHOLAS    PLAYS 

The  Boy  Bishop 54 

Plays  of  Holy  Innocents  and  St.  Nicholas 61 

The  Girl  Abbess  and  the  Nuns'  Plays 66 

CHAPTER   V 
SECULAR    BY-PRODUCTS   IN    SATIRE   AND  WONDER 

The  Softie  and  the  Farce 70 

English  Revels  of  Misrule 72 

The  Miracles  de  Nostre  Dame 75 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   VI 

THE  TRANSITION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS 

PAGE 

From  Church  to  Guild 83 

Whitsuntide  and  Corpus  Christi 90 

CHAPTER   VII 

THE    SECULAR    REPRESENTATION    OF   THE    ENGLISH    CYCLES 

Regulation  by  the  Crafts 95 

Methods  of  Presentation 99 

Properties  and  Expenses 105 

Authorship 108 

Contemporary  Allusions 1 1 1 

The  Spectators 113 

The  Passing  of  the  Miracles 115 

CHAPTER    VIII 

THE   COLLECTIVE   STORY    OF   THE   CYCLES 
The  Collective  Story  of  the  Cycles 1 1 8 

CHAPTER    IX 
THE   HISTORICAL   ORDER    OF  THE    ENGLISH    CYCLES 

The  Cornish 1 26 

The  Manuscripts  of  the  York  and  Other  Cycles 128 

The  Dates  of  Composition  :    The  Chester 128 

The  York 133 

The  Towneley  or  Wakefield 133 

The  Ludus  Coventriae  or  N-Town  Plays 135 

The  Digby,  Beverley,  Lincoln,  and  Other  Plays    ....  139 

The  Comparative  Scope  of  the  Cycles 141 

CHAPTER   X 
THE    DRAMATIC    DEVELOPMENT   OF  THE    ENGLISH    CYCLES 

The  Early  Infusion  of  the  Comic 144 

Illustrated  by  the  Earlier  Plays  of  Cornwall,  Chester,  N-Town, 
«c '49 


CONTENTS  ix 

CHAPTER   XI 

THE   YORK   SCHOOLS    OF    HUMOUR   AND    REALISM        pAGE 
The  York  Schools  of  Humour  and  Realism 153 

CHAPTER    XII 
THE    WAKEFIELD    MASTER 

His  Relation  to  the  Schools  of  York 161 

To  the  School  of  Humour 166 

To  the  School  of  Realism 173 

His  Masterpiece  ;    and  Other  Attributions 1 80 

CHAPTER   XIII 
THE   TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC 

Especially  in   the    Ludus   Coventrise   and   the   Middle   Period   of 
the  York 191 

CHAPTER   XIV 

THE    ELEMENTS    OF    PATHOS    AND    SUBLIMITY 
The  Elements  of  Pathos  and  Sublimity 198 

CHAPTER   XV 

THE   CHARACTERISTICS   OF   THE   LATER   MIRACLES 

The  Allegorical,  Mock-Ideal,  Sensational 205 

Especially  of  the  Digby  Plays 207 

The  Devil,  Deadly  Sins,  and  Vice 208 

CHAPTER    XVI 
THE   MYSTERIES    IN    FRANCE 

History  and  Method  of  Presentation <     .     213 

Their  Character  as  Compared  with  the  English 216 

CHAPTER   XVII 

CURIOUS   TRADITIONS    IN   THE   CYCLES 

The  Angelic  Hierarchy  and  the  Fall  of  Lucifer 224 

The  History  of  the  "  Angelic  Orders  " 228 

The  History  of  the  "  Fall  of  Lucifer  " 236 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  OIL   OF   MERCY    AND   THE  HOLY   ROOD-TREE 

PAGE 

The  Mission  of  Scth  and  the  Promise  of  the  Oil 247 

The  Three  Kernels  and  the  History  of  the  Cross- Wood      .     .     .     249 
The  Sources  of  the  Stories 256 

CHAPTER   XIX 
THE   OIL   OF   MERCY    AND   THE   HARROWING   OF    HELL 

The  Legend  from  the  Gospel  of  Nieodtmtu 260 

Dramatic  Use  by  the  Cycles 265 

Biblical,  Apocalyptic,  and  Other  Sources 265 

CHAPTER   XX 
THE   COMING   OF   ANTICHRIST 

The  Prophecy  in  the  Chester  Play,  the  Cursor  Mundi,  etc.      .     .     272 
Its  Origin  and  Growth 274 

CHAPTER   XXI 

THE   RELATION   OF    MIRACLES  TO   MORALS,    AND  OF 
MORALS   TO    INTERLUDES 

Miracles  and  Morals 279 

Morals  and  Interludes 283 

CHAPTER   XXII 

SOME   OF  THE   OLDER    MORALS 
Some  of  the  Older  Morals 293 

CHAPTER    XXIII 
LESS-KNOWN    SURVIVALS    OF   THE   MORAL    INTERLUDE 

Controversial  Playi 30x3 

Artistic  Variations  of  the  Stock,   Introductory  to  the  Drama  of 

Character  and  of  Humours 302 


CONTENTS  xi 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

SOME  LESS-KNOWN  FORERUNNERS  OF  ROMANTIC  COMEDY 

PAGE 
Some  Less-Known  Forerunners  of  Romantic  Comedy     .     .     .     .     315 

APPENDIX 

A.  Observations  on  the  Sources  of  the  Cycles 323 

B.  The  Advertisement  of  Levity 334 


INDEX 


339 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Hell- Mouth  and  Interior Frontispiece 

From  a  fresco  at  Stratford-upon-Avon 
A  Scene  of  Torture  in  a  Passion  Play, Facing  page    8 

From  a  picture  by  Albrecht  Diirer 

The  End  of  the  World 12 

The  Virgin  and  Child,  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,   and 

the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents 24 

Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  the  Apostles           30 

A  Monument  to  a  Boy-Bishop 56 

St.   Nicholas  and  the  Schoolboys          64 

"  Miracle  a" une  femme  que  Notre  Dame  gar  da  de  la  mer 

au  Mont  Saint-Michel"         76 

Robert  the  Devil  at  the  Emperor's  Court 80 

A   Pageant 88 

A  Pageant 102 

Pilate's  Club  or  Mall 106 

The  Sacrifice  of  Isaac        126 

Devil  with  Hammer,  from  a  fresco  at  Stratford-upon-Avon  .      .      .  138 
The   Elect  Who   Have  Lived   Before   and   Those   Who 

Have  Lived  After  the  Deluge          168 

Devils  and   Cauldron         178 

The  Meeting  of  the  Magi  and  Herod,  the  Massacre  of  the 

Innocents,  and  the  Flight  into  Egypt 1 94 

The  Passion  Play  at  Valenciennes  in  1547 216 

Enoch  and  Elias  witnessing  of  the  Lord  before   Antichrist          .      .  232 

"  Et  vidi  stellam  de  ccelo  cfcidisse" 238 

The  Defeat  of  the  Dragon  and  the  Proclamation  of  the 

Reign  of  the  Lord 240 

Michael  overthrows  the  Dragon 242 

Christ  harrowing  Hell         262 

Enoch,  Elias,  and  the  Antichrist 272 

The  Massacre  of  Enoch  and  Elias .      .      .  274 

The  Death  of  Antichrist  and  Ascension  of  Enoch  and  Elias       .      .  276 

Everyman 288 

Death 290 

Characters  in  "  Hycke-Scorner "        .     „. 296 


PLAYS 

OF    OUR    FOREFATHERS 

CHAPTER   I 
THE   ORIGIN   OF   THE   MEDIEVAL   DRAiMA 

WHEN,  in  the  earlier  centuries  of  the  Christian  era, 
the  law  and  order,  the  social  forms,  refinement,  and 
art  of  classical  civilisation  were  submerged  by  the  flood 
of  barbaric  invasion,  it  was  only  natural  that  the  ancient 
drama  should  likewise  disappear.  Greek  tragedy  had, 
indeed,  long  ago  degenerated  into  rhetoric  and  ethical 
bombast ;  and  Roman  comedy  had  yielded,  as  a  popular 
amusement,  to  the  brutal  and  spectacular  orgies  of  the 
Coliseum,  the  obscenities  and  ineptitudes  of  dancers, 
mimics,  and  jugglers.  But  among  the  cultivated  the 
masterpieces  themselves  were  still  a  source  of  delight,  and 
might  yet,  had  Roman  civilisation  been  suffered  to  work 
out  its  own  reform,  have  served  as  models  for  the 
recrudescence  of  the  ancient  stage.  Under  the  barbarian 
rulers  of  the  dismembered  empire,  they  persisted  merely 
as  manuscripts  in  one  and  another  ecclesiastical  library 
or  religious  muniment-room  of  Europe. 

But  the  dramatic  instinct  of  mankind  survives  its  prod- 
ucts.    It  is  perennial :  when  thwarted  here  it  bubbles 


2          PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

elsewhere  unexpected.  For  as  it  is  innate  in  man  to 
imitate,  so  especially  to  imitate  the  actions  and  passions 
of  man.  In  the  folk-festivals  of  our  Norse  and  Teu- 
tonic ancestors,  and  in  the  lays  of  the  mediaeval  minstrel, 
the  desire  for  dramatic  representation  struggled  for  an 
outlet;  it  found  expression,  crude  and  lewd  and  personal, 
in  those  survivals  of  the  southern  mime  which  lent 
sporadic  laughter  to  the  merry-makings  of  castle  and 
court  all  through  the  ages  known  as  dark  and  mediaeval  ; 
it  posed  sincere,  ascetic,  awkward,  in  the  dramatic  off- 
spring of  the  humanist,  when  now  and  again  some 
cloistered  devotee  of  ^Eschylus,  Euripides,  or  Terence 
sought  to  inspire  his  pagan  models  with  the  breath  of 
Christian  belief,  or  to  convert  the  material  of  the  classics 
into  modern  incident,  character,  and  device.  Plautus 
(in  whose  comedies,  with  those  of  Terence,  St.  Jerome 
was  wont  to  seek  refreshment  after  strenuous  seasons 
of  fasting  and  prayer)  was  imitated  in  a  Querolus,  and 
probably  in  a  Geta,  as  early  as  the  fourth  century. 
Terence,  the  dear  delight  of  the  mediaeval  monastery, 
was  in  the  tenth  pruned  of  his  pagan  charm  and  naugh- 
tiness, and  planted  out  in  six  persimmon  comedies  by 
a  Saxon  nun  of  Gandersheim,  Hrosvitha,  —  comedies 
of  tedious  saints  and  hircine  sinners  and  a  stuffy  Latin 
style.  And  in  that  same  century  a  tragedy  of  the 
Suffering  Christ  was  patched  up  of  lines  from  ^Eschylus 
and  Euripides.  This  is  the  X/HOTOS  irao^eup  long 
attributed  to  Gregory  Nazianzene,  but  now  assigned 
by  scholars  to  Johannes  Tzetzes,  some  six  hundred 
years  later,  or  to  some  other  Snug  or  Rowley  of  the  time. 
But  this  lacked  body  as  those  artistic  flavour.  All  are 
rechauffes. 

Neither  the  lingering  rites  of  a  decadent  superstition, 


ORIGIN    OF   THE   MEDIAEVAL   DRAMA    3 

such  as  furnished  forth  the  festivals  of  Saxon  spring  and 
harvest,  nor  lifeless  adaptation  of  the  classics,  could  satisfy 
the  dramatic  instinct  of  a  civilisation  groping,  to  be  sure, 
but  none  the  less  advancing,  toward  an  ideal  of  richer 
content,  religious  and  social.  To  be  effective,  vital, 
drama  must  represent  spiritual  conflict  or  the  jostle 
of  social  adjustment.  The  former  kind  of  play  is  tragedy ; 
the  latter,  comedy.  Just  as  Greek  tragedy  was  religious 
in  its  matter,  essence,  and  aim,  so  must  the  tragedy  of 
early  Christian  civilisation,  if  it  is  to  endure,  have  its  germ 
and  spiritual  effect  in  things  religious.  As  the  plays  of 
-flischylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides  sprang  from  myths 
of  conduct,  aspiration,  mystery,  —  the  Promethean 
struggle  with  destiny,  the  Dionysiac  quest  of  immortality, 
the  Heraclean  assertion  of  man's  ideal  strength;  the  con- 
flict of  law,  human  and  divine,  in  Antigone,  of  love  and 
life  in  Alcestis,  of  lust  and  chastity  in  Hippolytus,  —  so 
must  the  tragedy  of  the  new  era  have  its  roots  in  the 
springs  of  Christian  feeling :  it  must  breathe  the  air  of 
Christian  ritual ;  flower  in  Christian  legend,  scripture, 
romance ;  have  its  fruitage  in  ideals  of  conduct  character- 
istic ot  a  Christian  age.  As  the  dramatic  spectacle  of  the 
Greek,  dealing  with  mysteries  of  the  religious  life,  aimed 
to  transmute  that  Fear  of  the  unknown,  which  gripes  the 
untutored  heart,  into  a  reverent  resignation  to  the  inevi- 
table, and  to  substitute  for  the  hopeless  Pity  aroused  by 
unmerited  suffering  the  consolation  of  frailty  and  inno- 
cence triumphant  over  mortality,  —  so  must  the  drama  of 
God-in-man,  the  tragedy  of  a  human  Saviour,  purify 
mankind  not  by  terror  of  retribution  from  without, 
but  by  fear  of  God  within  the  heart ;  not  alone  by  pity 
for  sorrows  inexplicable  and  intimate,  but  by  sympathy 
with  the  suffering  brotherhood  of  man.  What  Christian- 


4          PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

ity  teaches,  the  tragedy  of  a  Christian  civilisation  must 
present  in  the  symbolic  form  of  actual  lives,  characters,  and 
conflicts  :  inward  righteousness,  outward  charity. 

And  as  the  comedy,  too,  of  Greeks  and  Romans  showed 
that  not  all  mistakes  in  social  conduct  are  necessarily 
fatal,  and  not  all  apparent  successes  final,  so  the  comedy 
of  a  Christian  age  must  show  how  in  the  realm  of  con- 
vention the  joyous  heart  may  triumph  over  untoward 
circumstance ;  how  wit  and  humour,  sharp-shooters  of 
the  band  of  Mirth,  may  rout  battalions  of  ignorance  and 
sham  and  self-conceit.  Indeed,  we  should  expect  to  find 
that  in  the  drama  of  the  Christian  religion,  where  mercy 
tempers  justice,  Fear  and  Hope  shall  meet  together, 
Pity  and  Mirth  shall  kiss  each  other.  And  our  expecta- 
tion will  not  be  disappointed. 

It  was  not  until  the  church  of  the  Dark  Ages  had  be- 
gun to  emphasise  in  its  religious  functions  the  dramatic 
element  lying  at  the  core  of  its  ritual  and  its  faith,  and  to 
realise  that  the  latter  could  be  best  inculcated  by  drama- 
tising the  former,  —  the  faith  emphasised  by  staging  the 
ritual,  —  it  was  not  until  then  that  the  modern  drama 
was  born.  This  has  been  said  by  hundreds.  In  what 
follows  let  me,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  quote : 

"  The  climax  of  a  tragedy  in  life  was  [from  the  first] 
recognised  in  the  marvellous  self-sacrifice  of  Christ. 
Around  the  Eucharist,  the  memorial  of  thanksgiving 
for  that  death  and  resurrection,  grew  up  the  Christian 
worship.  As  a  fit  approach  to  that  solemn  feast,  various 
acts  of  preparation  were  introduced,  until,  as  a  result,  an 
established  mode  of  procedure,  a  formal  liturgy,  ex- 
pressed the  devotion  of  the  disciple  not  less  by  action 
than  by  word."  *  But,  so  long  as  the  feast  remained  a 
1  Davidson  :  English  Mystery  Plays,  p.  6. 


ORIGIN    OF   THE   MEDIEVAL   DRAMA     5 

mere  memorial,  a  thanksgiving,  purely  symbolical,  the 
element  capable  of  arousing  "  dramatic  "  emotion  was 
lacking  ;  for  dramatic  emotion  centres  not  about  a  mem- 
ory, a  doctrine,  an  idea,  but  about  an  action,  a  suffering, 
a  Presence.  If  the  illusion  of  another's  agony  is  pre- 
sented as  real  and  immediate,  the  onlooker,  by  sympa- 
thetically re-enacting  in  his  own  imagination  that  agony, 
feels  the  pity  and  the  fear  that  are  distinctively  tragic. 
When  in  the  ninth  century,  by  the  formulation  of  the 
doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  the  bread  and  wine  of 
the  Eucharist  came  more  generally  to  be  regarded  as  the 
real  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  no  longer  a  mere  memo- 
rial, but  a  sacrifice  for  our  sins,  then  began  "the  dra- 
matic development  of  the  liturgy  in  all  countries  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  faith.  This  is  more  than  coincidence," 
continues  the  writer.  "  It  is  cause  and  effect.  The 
dramatic  element,  hitherto  lacking  in  the  Christian 
liturgy,  was  now  present  through  a  belief  that  aroused 
the  most  intense  emotions  in  the  worshipper.  Day  after 
day  the  devout  among  the  clergy  saw  the  Son  of  God 
offered  up,  a  present  sacrifice  for  their  sins.  What  act 
of  more  awful  import  could  be  imagined !  And  when 
the  church  services,  following  the  incidents  of  his  life, 
came  around  to  the  dates  of  his  death  and  resurrection, 
what  longing  must  have  possessed  them  to  present  vividly 
to  the  ignorant  and  heedless  multitude  those  moments 
now  stored  for  them  with  such  sacred  meaning  ! " 

Once  the  idea  of  impressing  the  public  mind  by  means 
of  dramatic  representation  with  the  significance  of  any 
portion  of  the  church  ritual  had  taken  root,  its  branch- 
ing and  flowering  were  but  a  question  of  opportunity  and 
constructive  imagination.  The  opportunity  was  at  hand 
in  the  succession  of  holy  days  appointed  to  be  observed 


6          PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

by  the  ecclesiastical  calendar;  while  the  scriptures  ap- 
pointed to  be  read  for  the  various  fasts  and  festivals  of  the 
year,  as  well  as  the  legends  of  the  saints  celebrated  on 
their  respective  days,  afforded  such  material  for  imagina- 
tive elaboration  as  the  meanest  invention  could  not  fail 
to  grasp,  or  succeed  utterly  in  spoiling.  The  materials, 
moreover,  whether  biblical  or  legendary,  were  already  a 
property  of  the  popular  consciousness ;  just  as  the  myths 
out  of  which  Athenian  tragedy  had  proceeded  were 
familiar  in  plot,  character,  and  sentiment  because  trans- 
mitted as  articles  of  belief  for  generations  before  they 
became  articles  of  dramatic  edification. 

The  four  Sundays  in  Advent,  of  which  the  first  would 
fall  between  November  27  and  December  3,  set  before 
the  church  the  majesty  of  the  person  and  of  the  king- 
dom of  the  coming  Lord ;  to  the  creative  imagination 
they  offered  alluring  material  for  dramatic  treatment : 
Christ  riding  into  Jerusalem  upon  the  ass,  and  cleansing 
the  Temple  of  its  money-changers  ;  the  healing  of  the 
lepers  and  the  restoring  of  sight  to  the  blind ;  the  min- 
istry of  John  bearing  witness,  and  of  Elijah  and  the 
prophets ;  the  mystery  of  the  Second  Coming,  "  The 
Kingdom  of  God  is  nigh  at  hand "  ;  the  parable  of 
the  Virgins  wise  and  foolish,  with  its  thrilling  cry, 
"  Behold,  the  Bridegroom  cometh  "  ;  the  rehearsal  of  the 
signs  that  shall  precede  the  last  Judgment,  and  the  lurid 
history  of  the  Man  of  Sin,  —  the  Antichrist  whose  name 
and  threatened  reign  were  facts  that  gripped  the  mediae- 
val heart  with  dread.  The  numerous  legendary  festivals 
of  this  season  were  regarded  by  the  common  folk  as  a 
foretaste  of  the  revels  of  Christmas ;  they  afforded 
in  themselves  a  varied  fabric  for  literary  or  proces- 
sional commemoration.  St.  Cecilia's,  St.  Clement's,  St. 


ORIGIN    OF   THE    MEDIAEVAL   DRAMA     7 

Catherine's,  St.  Andrew's,  crowded  the  end  of  Novem- 
ber ;  and  St.  Nicholas'  and  St.  Lucy's,  together  with 
that  greater  festival  of  the  Conception  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  gave  colour  to  the  opening  weeks  of  the  month 
following.  The  first  of  these  December  feasts,  that  of 
St.  Nicholas  on  the  sixth,  afforded  especial  provoca- 
tion to  the  lovers  of  dramatic  entertainment.  For  on 
that  day  fell  the  election  in  many  schools  and  church- 
choirs  of  the  Boy  Bishop ;  and  there,  ready  to  the  hand 
of  clerical  playwrights  and  mimetic  boys,  were  legends, 
unsurpassed  for  wit  and  wonder,  of  the  patron  saint  of 
schoolboys  and  of  travellers  whom  schoolboys  always 
love.  St.  Thomas'  day  on  the  twenty-first  would  revive 
the  story  of  his  incredulity.  The  twenty-fifth  with  the 
Nativity  of  our  Lord,  the  twenty-sixth  with  the  martyr- 
dom of  St.  Stephen,  the  twenty-seventh  with  the  de- 
voted service  and  miraculous  escapes  of  St.  John  the 
Beloved,  and  the  twenty-eighth  with  the  massacre  of  the 
Holy  Innocents,  could  not  escape  dramatic  celebration. 
The  last,  or  Childermas,  was,  moreover,  the  special  day 
of  the  Boy  Bishop,  and  concluded  the  period  of  his 
rule. 

January  opens  with  the  Circumcision  of  our  Lord ; 
Twelfth  Day,  or  Old  Christmas,  follows  on  the  sixth,  and 
presents  the  Epiphany  of  Christ  to  the  Gentiles,  the 
beautiful  story  of  the  Star  and  the  manifestation  of  the 
Babe  to  the  three  kings  of  Orient.  On  the  first  Sunday 
after  Epiphany  the  gospel  commemorates  the  manifesta- 
tion of  our  Lord's  glory  in  the  Temple,  his  dispute  with 
the  Doctors ;  and  on  the  second  Sunday  there  is  read  the 
beginning  of  his  miracles  at  the  marriage  of  Cana  in  Gali- 
lee. Passing  minor  festivals,  though  one  and  another,  like 
St.  Fabian's  and  St.  Agnes',  had  its  processions  and  plays, 


8          PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

we  come  finally,  on  the  twenty-fifth,  to  the  Conversion 
of  St.  Paul,  which  of  course  found  expression  in  many 
an  early  play. 

With  Candlemas  on  the  second  of  February  comes 
the  festival  of  the  Purification  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and 
there  is  recalled  to  memory  the  rejoicing  of  the  aged 
Simeon  and  Anna  for  the  light  that  should  lighten  the 
Gentiles.  Then  between  the  fourth  of  that  month  and 
the  tenth  of  March,  with  Ash  Wednesday  begins  the 
Lenten  observance  of  the  fasting  in  the  wilderness  and 
the  temptation  by  the  devil,  a  subject  for  many  a  miracle 
play.  During  March,  St.  David  in  Wales,  and  St. 
Patrick  in  Ireland,  would  doubtless  be  celebrated  by 
pomp  if  not  by  plays.  On  the  twenty-fifth  of  the  month 
the  story  of  the  angelic  messenger  and  the  Annunciation 
stood  ready  to  the  poet's  hand.  Between  March  15 
and  April  18,  the  sixth  Sunday  in  Lent  calls  nowadays 
for  the  narrative  of  the  last  days  of  the  Passion  and  the 
tragedy  of  the  Crucifixion,  but  in  the  ancient  English 
Church  the  Benediction  of  the  Palms  took  place  before 
the  Holy  Communion,  with  plain  reference  to  the  com- 
memoration of  Christ's  triumphal  entry  into  Jerusalem : 
"And  much  people  took  branches  of  palm  trees,  and 
went  forth  to  meet  him,  and  cried  Hosanna :  Blessed  is 
the  King  of  Israel  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord."  After  an  acolyte  had  read  the  lesson  of  the  en- 
campment of  the  Israelites  by  the  palm  trees  of  Elim, 
and  a  deacon  that  of  the  triumphal  entry  from  St.  John, 
palm  branches  were  laid  upon  the  altar,  for  the  exor- 
cism and  blessing  of  the  priest;  then  the  procession 
passed  round  the  church,  singing  Hosannas  and  dis- 
tributing the  branches.  From  this  service  and  cele- 
bration on  the  first  day  of  Holy  Week  it  was  an  easy 


A  Scene  of  Torture  in  a  Passion  Play,  from  a  picture  by  Albrecht  Dtirer    . 
From    "A    History    of    Theatrical    Art" 


ORIGIN   OF   THE    MEDIEVAL   DRAMA     9 

and  inevitable  step  to  the  dramatisation  of  the  scriptural 
event. 

Every  day  of  Holy  Week  affords  by  its  lessons  and 
gospel  distinctive  material  for  the  Drama  of  the  Passion. 
Scene  follows  scene  in  cumulative  series,  —  the  conspiracy 
of  the  Jews,  the  anointing  by  the  Magdalene,  the  be- 
trayal, the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  on  Maundy 
Thursday,  the  culminating  tragedy  of  Good  Friday. 
Then  the  dramatic  rebound,  with  the  harrowing  of  hell, 
and  the  conversion  of  tragedy  into  comedy  divine  with 
the  triumph  of  the  Resurrection,  and  the  various  ap- 
pearances of  the  risen  Master  to  the  Maries  and  the 
disciples. 

Easter  falls  between  March  22  and  April  25  ;  but 
always  on  April  23  a  pleasing  diversion  of  interest  from 
the  scriptural  to  the  popular  and  patriotic  would  be 
created  by  the  festival  of  St.  George,  about  whose  legend 
many  a  play  and  mumming  was  devised.  Forty  days 
after  Easter  —  somewhere,  that  is,  between  April  30 
and  June  3 — the  services  of  Holy  Thursday  would 
recall  the  glorious  mystery  of  the  Ascension  ;  and  ten 
days  later  the  gospel  of  Whitsunday  would  suggest,  as  it 
still  does  in  Florence  and  many  another  Italian  town, 
the  representation  of  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
We  read  that  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  at 
Whitsuntide,  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  they  still  symbolised 
the  marvel  "  by  letting  a  white  pigeon  fly  out  of  a  hole  in 
the  midst  of  the  roof  of  the  great  aisle.  The  pigeon,  with 
a  long  censer  which  came  down  from  the  same  place 
almost  to  the  ground,  was  swung  up  and  down  at  such  a 
length  that  it  reached  with  one  sweep  almost  to  the  west 
gate  of  the  church,  and  with  the  other  to  the  choir  stairs  ; 
the  censer  breathing  out  over  the  whole  church  and  the 


io         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

assembled  multitude  a  most  pleasant  perfume  from  the 
sweet  things  that  burnt  within  it."  *  May  3  commemo- 
rates the  invention  of  the  Holy  Cross,  but  no  play  that 
I  know  of  grew  out  of  that  legend.  The  significance 
of  Trinity  Sunday  —  one  week  after  Whitsunday  —  com- 
memorating as  it  does  a  dogma  rather  than  an  historical 
event,  does  not  lend  itself  to  dramatic  presentation.  But 
the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi  on  the  succeeding  Thursday 
(/.  €.  between  May  21  and  June  24),  even  though  it  also 
celebrates  a  dogma,  that  of  the  Real  Presence  of  our 
Lord  in  the  consecrated  host,  became,  soon  after  it  was 
confirmed  by  Clement  V  in  1311,  the  occasion  of  most 
of  the  cyclic  performances  of  England.  For  the  doc- 
trine  of  transubstantiation  is  in  its  essence  materialistic, 
and  the  purpose  of  the  Corpus  Christi  procession  was 
from  the  first  to  awaken  dramatic  interest  in  the  Holy 
Wafer,  elevated  every  Sunday  at  the  most  solemn  and 
thrilling  moment  of  the  mass,  and  borne  through  the 
streets  once  a  year  to  be  adored  by  attendant  guilds 
and  expectant  crowds  of  citizens.  About  this,  the  cen- 
tral doctrine  of  a  Christianity  made  material,  the  pa- 
geants of  all  sacred  narrative  might,  and  did,  readily 
cluster. 

The  offices  for  the  Nativity  of  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
June  24,  and  for  the  ministration  and  martyrdom  of 
Saints  Peter  and  Paul,  June  29 ;  also  for  various  festi- 
vals of  July,  that  of  the  Visitation  of  the  Blessed  Vir- 
gin Mary  to  Elizabeth  on  the  second,  of  St.  Margaret  on 
the  twentieth,  St.  Mary  Magdalene  on  the  twenty- 
second,  and  St.  James  the  Greater  (of  Compostella)  on 
the  twenty-fifth,  were  all  suggestive  of  incidents,  scrip- 

1  Lombarde,  Topographical  Dictionary,  c.  1570;  in  Hone'i  Ancient 
Afysteries. 


ORIGIN    OF   THE    MEDIEVAL   DRAMA     n 

tural  or  legendary,  capable  of  histrionic  treatment.  But 
of  July  festivals,  that  which  was  destined  to  be  of  most 
importance  in  the  history  of  the  English  drama  was  St. 
Anne's  of  the  twenty-sixth  ;  for,  in  the  fifteenth  and 
sixteenth  centuries,  the  cyclic  plays  (especially  those  deal- 
ing with  the  tradition  of  the  Virgin)  of  several  English 
towns  were  transferred  to  that  day  as  preferable  to  the 
day  of  Corpus  Christi.  In  August  the  scriptural  narra- 
tive again  is  illustrated  by  the  festival  of  the  Transfigu- 
ration on  the  sixth,  and  that  of  the  beheadal  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist  on  the  twenty-ninth ;  while  the  traditional 
history  of  the  church  is  perpetuated  in  the  festivals  of 
St.  Lawrence  and  St.  Bartholomew.  Interesting  sub- 
jects, though  I  know  of  no  liturgical  plays  or  later 
miracles  founded  upon  them,  are  commemorated  in 
September,  by  the  feast  of  the  Exaltation  of  the  Holy 
Cross  on  the  fourteenth,  by  St.  Matthew's  day  on 
the  twenty-first,  and  St.  Cyprian's  (the  Cyprianus  ad 
leones  of  the  Decian  persecution)  on  the  twenty-sixth. 
The  festivals,  on  the  other  hand,  of  the  Nativity  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  the  eighth,  and  of  St.  Michael  and  All 
Angels,  the  twenty-ninth,  undoubtedly  contributed,  the 
former  to  the  development  of  the  St.  Anne  plays,  the 
other  to  the  dramatisation  of  the  legend  of  the  war  in 
heaven,  and  of  the  several  scriptures  and  traditions,  like 
that  of  Tobit,  in  which  angelic  presences  ministered 
to  man. 

Though  many  saints  are  celebrated  in  October, —  St. 
Remi,  St.  Faith,  St.  Denys,  King  Edward  the  Confessor, 
St.  Etheldreda,  St.  Luke,  Sts.  Simon  and  Jude,  and 
St.  Crispin,  —  only  the  last  of  these,  the  shoemaker,  and 
his  brother  Crispinian,  seem  to  have  received  dramatic 
honours  north  of  the  English  Channel.  As  patrons  of 


12         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  gentle  craft  the  twain  were  revered  by  every  shoe- 
maker; but  the  feast  of  their  martyrdom,  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  the  month,  was  celebrated  with  especial  zest  in 
Dublin,  of  which  city  they  were  the  tutelar  saints.  Con- 
cerning Edward  the  Confessor,  though  he  is  preeminently 
the  national  saint  of  England,  plays  do  not  appear  to 
have  been  made ;  but  pageants  in  his  honour  upon  his 
day,  October  13,  are  of  frequent  record.  Of  the  individ- 
ual saints  of  the  first  three  weeks  in  November,  Martin, 
Bishop  and  Confessor,  the  beloved  of  beggars,  who 
covered  the  shivering  Lord  with  half  of  his  cloak,  is 
alone  provocative  of  dramatic  idealisation.  But  even 
that  honour  he  appears  with  characteristic  modesty  to 
have  declined  ;  so  we  know  him  best  by  homely  associ- 
ations, those  of  Old  New  Year's  day,  —  Martlemas  beef, 
and  apples  and  goodies  for  children.  The  distinctive  fes- 
tival of  the  month  is  that  of  All  Saints,  or  Hallowmas, — 
in  its  universal  commemoration  of  martyrs  one  of  the 
most  beautiful,  in  its  forecast  of  the  Day  of  Doom  the 
most  awful,  in  the  calendar  of  the  church.  The  epistle 
for  the  day  is  fraught  with  dramatic  significance.  It  is 
of  the  sealing  of  the  servants  of  God,  of  them  which 
have  come  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed 
their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb;  it  emphasises  the  happier  side  of  the  general 
doom.  This  side  the  mediaeval  playwrights  did  not 
utterly  neglect ;  its  dark  counterpart  is  prominent  in  the 
miracle  of  the  Judicium  with  which  the  great  religious 
cycles  close. 

Most  of  these  festivals,  in  spite  of  their  different 
degrees  of  antiquity,  have  given  impetus  to  some  pageant 
or  other  of  the  cyclic  miracles  by  which  the  drama  was 
revived  for  the  populace  of  the  middle  ages ;  or  they 


ORIGIN   OF   THE   MEDIAEVAL   DRAMA     13 

have  contributed  both  material  and  occasion  to  one  or 
another  of  the  numerous  independent  plays  of  saints,  of 
which,  though  few  have  survived,  records  remain  in 
municipal  documents  or  in  literary  reference  at  the 
present  day. 


i4        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  EVOLUTION    OF    LITURGICAL   PLAYS 
FROM  THE  RESURRECTION  TROPE 

As  in  the  liturgy  the  germ  of  dramatic  development 
rests  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass,  so  in  the  calendar  of 
the  church  the  dramatic  climax  is  reached  on  Good 
Friday  with  the  gospel  of  our  Lord's  death  upon  the 
cross.  For  that  most  solemn  of  events  in  human  his- 
tory the  agony  of  the  preceding  days  of  Holy  Week  has 
been  a  cumulative  preparation,  and  of  that  Sacrifice  the 
triumph  of  Easter  is  the  only  compensatory,  the  divinely 
dramatic,  outcome.  From  the  ceremonies  attending  the 
rituals  of  these  days  —  Good  Friday  and  Easter —  and 
from  the  tropes,  by  which  in  simple  dialogue  the  words 
of  the  scriptural  participants  were  distributed  among 
the  officiating  priests,  the  first  great  dramas  of  our  fore- 
fathers sprang.  The  crucifixion  itself  was  in  earlier  days 
regarded  as  too  sacred  and  painful  a  subject  to  admit 
of  active  representation ;  but  with  the  joyful  theme  of 
Christ's  resurrection  the  case  was  altogether  different; 
and  the  ritual  dialogue  of  the  Easter  celebration  was  con- 
sequently the  first  to  take  on  dramatic  accessories  and 
form.  There  had  been,  indeed,  as  Mr.  Chambers,  in  his 
admirable  work  upon  the  "  Mediaeval  Stage,"  1  points  out, 
dramatic  arrangement  of  ceremonial  processions  at  a  very 
early  date.  When,  for  instance,  the  clergy  were  about 

»VoL  11,  pp-  4-«  7- 


EVOLUTION    OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     15 

to  dedicate  a  church,  they  would  form  in  rank  and  ap- 
proach it,  singing,  "  Lift  up  your  gates,  O  ye  rulers,  and 
be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting  doors ;  and  the  King  of 
Glory  shall  come  in."  From  within  there  would  issue 
a  scornful  voice  asking,  "  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  ?  " 
—  as  from  an  evil  spirit,  say,  some  malign  and  lingering 
deity  of  pagan  cult,  —  "  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  ?  " 
Whereat  the  ranks  of  the  Christian  God  would  thunder 
in  reply,  "  The  Lord  of  Virtues ;  he  is  the  King  of  Glory." 
And  then  the  doors  of  the  church  would  be  flung  open, 
and,  "  as  the  procession  swept  through,  he  who  had  been 
concealed  within  would  slip  out,  quasi  fugiens,  to  join  the 
train," —  the  ceremonial  counterpart,  this  fugitive,  of  the 
folk-gods,  or  devils,  which  writhe  in  gargoyles  of  stone 
from  under  the  eaves  of  mediaeval  convent,  church,  and 
college.  From  early  times  the  ritual  of  divine  service 
had  indulged  in  dramatic  illustration :  the  mimetic 
dropping  of  the  Lenten  veil  at  the  words  of  the  scripture, 
"  The  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  in  twain  " ;  and  the 
washing  of  feet  on  Maundy  Thursday,  and  the  parting 
of  the  seamless  vestment  on  Good  Friday,  and  so  on. 

From  the  Concordia  Regularis  of  St.  Ethelwold,  drawn 
up  between  965  and  975  for  ceremonials  of  the  church 
in  Winchester,  we  still  possess  a  description  of  the 
most  dramatic  of  these  early  rituals,  —  the  celebration 
for  Good  Friday.  The  Latin  version  is  given  by  Mr. 
Chambers;  also  a  graphic  translation  and  exposition  of 
the  whole :  "  St.  Ethelwold  directs  that  on  Good  Friday 
all  the  monks  shall  go  discalceati,  or  shoeless,  from  Prime 
'until  the  cross  is  adored.'  In  the  principal  service  of 
the  day,  which  begins  at  Nones,  the  reading  of  the  Passion 
according  to  St.  John  and  a  long  series  of  prayers  are 
included,  then  a  cross  is  made  ready  and  laid  upon  a 


16         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

cushion  a  little  way  in  front  of  the  altar.  It  is  unveiled, 
and  the  anthem  c  Behold  the  wood  of  the  cross '  (Ecce 
lignum  cruets)  is  sung.  The  abbot  advances,  prostrates 
himself,  and  chants  the  seven  penetential  psalms.  Then 
he  humbly  kisses  the  cross.  His  example  is  followed 
by  the  rest  of  the  monks  and  by  the  clergy  and  congre- 
gation." The  ancient  custom,  this,  of  Creeping  to  the 
Cross. 

The  ritual  of  St.  Ethelwold  then  proceeds :  "  Since 
on  this  day  we  celebrate  the  laying  down  of  the  body  of 
our  Saviour,  if  it  seem  good  or  pleasing  to  any  to  follow 
on  similar  lines  the  use  of  certain  of  the  religious,  which 
is  worthy  of  imitation  for  the  strengthening  of  faith  in 
the  unlearned  vulgar  and  in  neophytes,  we  have  ordered 
it  in  this  wise.  Let  a  likeness  of  a  sepulchre  be  made 
in  a  vacant  part  of  the  altar,  and  a  veil  stretched  on  a 
ring  which  may  hang  there  until  the  adoration  of  the 
cross  is  over.  Let  the  deacons  who  previously  carried 
the  cross  come  and  wrap  it  in  a  cloth  in  the  place  where 
it  was  adored.  Then  let  them  carry  it  back,  singing 
anthems,  until  they  come  to  the  place  of  the  monument, 
and  there  having  laid  down  the  cross  as  if  it  were  the 
buried  body  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  them  say  an 
anthem.  And  here  let  the  holy  cross  be  guarded  with 
all  reverence  until  the  night  of  the  Lord's  resurrection. 
By  night  let  two  brothers  or  three,  or  more  if  the  throng 
be  sufficient,  be  appointed  who  may  keep  faithful  wake 
there  chanting  psalms." 

The  ceremony  of  the  burial,  or  Depositio  Crucisy  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  Missa  Prtssanctificatorum,  the  Good  Friday 
communion  with  a  host  not  sanctified  that  day  but 
specially  reserved  from  Maundy  Thursday  ;  and  there 
is  no  further  reference  to  the  sepulchre  until  the  order 
for  Easter  day  itself  is  reached,  when  St  Ethelwold 
directs  that, "  before  the  bells  are  rung  for  Matins,  the  sac- 
ristans are  to  take  the  cross  and  set  it  in  a  fitting  place." 


EVOLUTION   OF    LITURGICAL   PLAYS     17 

This  example  is  significant  because  it  shows  us  the 
ecclesiastical  ceremonial  passing  into  the  dramatic  by 
means  of  pantomime  and  interjected  song.  That  which 
follows,  from  St.  Ethelwold's  ritual  for  the  third  Nocturn 
at  Matins  on  Easter  morning,  is  of  even  greater  historical 
interest,  for  it  displays  an  advance  within  the  ceremonial 
to  dramatic  dialogue  itself: 

While  the  third  lesson  is  being  chanted,  let  four 
brethren  vest  themselves.  Let  one  of  these,  vested  in 
an  alb,  enter  as  though  to  take  part  in  the  service,  and 
let  him  approach  the  sepulchre  without  attracting  atten- 
tion, and  sit  there  quietly  with  a  palm  in  his  hand. 
While  the  third  respond  is  chanted,  let  the  remaining 
three  follow,  and  let  them  all,  vested  in  copes,  bearing 
in  their  hands  thuribles  with  incense,  and  stepping 
delicately  (pedetemptim)  as  those  who  seek  something, 
approach  the  sepulchre.  These  things  are  done  in 
imitation  of  the  angel  sitting  in  the  monument  (the 
sepulchre),  and  women  with  spices  coming  to  anoint  the 
body  of  Jesus.  When,  therefore,  he  who  sits  there  be- 
holds them  approach  him  like  folk  lost  and  seeking  some- 
thing, let  him  begin  in  a  dulcet  voice  of  medium  pitch  to 
sing  Quern  qu<eritis  (in  sepulchro,  o  Christicol<e\  And 
when  he  has  sung  it  to  the  end,  let  the  three  reply  in 
unison, 

Jesum  Nazarenum  (crucifixum,  o  c<elicol<e). 

So  he  — 

Non  est  hie,  surrexit  sicut  pradixerat. 
//<?,  nuntiate  quia  surrexit  a  mortuis. 

At  the  word  of  this  bidding  let  those  three  turn  to  the 
choir  and  say, 

Alleluia  !  resurrexit  Dominus. 


i8         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

This  said,  let  the  one,  still  sitting  there  and  as  if  recalling 
them,  say  the  anthem, 

Venite  et  vidcte  locum. 

And  saying  this,  let  him  rise,  and  lift  the  veil,  and 
show  them  the  place  bare  of  the  cross,  but  only  the 
cloths  laid  there  in  which  the  cross  was  wrapped.  And 
when  they  have  seen  this  let  them  set  down  the  thuribles 
which  they  bare  in  that  same  sepulchre,  and  take  the 
cloth  and  hold  it  up  in  the  face  of  the  clergy,  and,  as  if 
to  demonstrate  that  the  Lord  has  risen,  and  is  no  longer 
wrapped  therein,  let  them  sing  the  anthem, 

Surrexit  Dominus  de  sepulchro, 

and  lay  the  cloth  upon  the  altar.  When  the  anthem  is 
done  let  the  prior,  snaring  in  their  gladness  at  the  triumph 
of  our  King,  in  that  having  vanquished  death  he  rose 
again,  begin  the  hymn, 

Tt  Deum  laudamus. 
And  this  begun,  all  the  bells  chime  out  together.1 

Here  then,  though  the  dialogue  is  yet  of  chant  and 
hymn,  the  drama  of  the  Christian  era,  with  action,  speech, 
and  stage  direction,  is  born. 

The  dialogue  here  presented  is  what  was  known  as  a 
trope,  that  is  to  say,  a  paraphrase  or  adaptation  of  the 
gospel  or  of  the  introit  (the  antiphon  and  psalm  appointed 
for  the  opening  of  the  Mass  of  the  day).  Continental 
tropes  of  this  kind  we  still  possess  from  the  century  pre- 
ceding ;  and  one  of  these,  included  in  a  manuscript  of  the 
Benedictine  abbey  of  St.  Gall,  is  said  to  be  the  simplest 
and  the  earliest  in  existence.  If  so,  the  trope  in  the 

1  Chambers,  Medieval  Stage,  II,    1 5,  308. 


EVOLUTION   OF    LITURGICAL   PLAYS     19 

Winchester  ritual  is  probably  a  survival  of  the  same,  or 
of  as  early  an  original.  The  content  of  the  St.  Gall 
trope  of  the  Resurrection  is  as  follows : 

Angels.     Whom  seek  ye  in  the  tomb,  O  worshippers  of 

Christ? 
Three  Maries.     Jesus  of  Nazareth  which  was  crucified,  O 

Heavenly  Ones. 

Angels.     He  is  not  here,  for  he  is  risen  as  he  said. 
Go  now,  announce  that  he  has  risen  from 
the  tomb. 

Resurrexi. 

The  Latin,  like  that  of  Winchester,  is  the  Latin  of  the 
gospels  in  the  Vulgate  :  the  elaborations  upon  the  gospels 
are,  in  both,  almost  imperceptible.  Indeed  it  is  difficult 
to  resist  the  conjecture  that  Easter  tropes  of  some  kind 
were  in  existence  in  the  Christian  church  as  early  as  the 
responsive  chant,  or  antiphon,  itself;  that  is  to  say,  as 
early  as  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century. 

There  are  also  tropes  still  existent  opening  with  the 
words  "  Whom  seek  ye  "  (§>uem  qu<eritis)  for  Christmas 
and  Ascension  Day.  They  are  not  so  early  in  manu- 
script, and  are  manifestly  not  so  early  of  composition. 
They  are  imitations,  whereas  the  former  was  a  close  para- 
phrase of  the  scriptural  text.  Still  they  are  of  great 
importance;  for  as  out  of  the  Easter  £>uem  grew  a  cycle 
of  plays  covering  the  history  not  only  of  the  resurrection 
but  of  the  whole  passion  of  Christ,  so  from  the  Christ- 
mas trope  and  its  accompanying  ceremonial  grew  a  cycle 
of  the  Nativity  which  in  time  extended  itself  backward  to 
the  creation  of  the  world ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  from 
the  Ascension  £>uem  proceeded  a  series  that  presented, 


ao        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

with  scriptural  and  legendary  scene,  the  history  of  the 
saints  from  Pentecost  to  the  day  of  doom. 

To  these  secondary  germs  of  cyclical  miracles  I  shall 
return  later.  Here,  a  few  words  about  the  further 
development  of  the  Resurrection  play.  First,  it  was 
enlarged  by  the  assignment  of  separate  speeches  to  each 
of  the  Maries,  and  to  the  angels;  then,  by  the  addition 
of  other  characters,  the  two  disciples  Peter  and  John  ; 
then,  by  the  composition  of  deeply  pathetic,  and  soon 
exquisitely  lyrical,  laments  (QT  planet  us)  for  the  Maries  as 
they  approached  the  sepulchre ;  then  by  supplementary 
scenes  of  Mary  Magdalene  and  the  gardener,  and  Mary 
Magdalene  and  the  disciples,  and  of  the  Pilgrims  journey- 
ing to  Emmaus.  So  on,  working  in  that  direction 
inevitably  toward  the  crowning  mystery  of  the  Ascension. 
Following  the  other  course,  the  lament  of  the  Maries 
before  the  tomb  was  soon  preluded  by  the  much  more 
pathetic  lamentation  of  the  mother  of  our  Lord  before 
the  cross,  and  by  the  response  of  the  dying  Saviour  and 
the  dialogue  between  his  mother  and  St.  John.  From  that 
offshoot  of  the  original  planctus  budded  plays  of  the 
whole  crucifixion,  the  burial,  and  the  harrowing  of  hell, 
for  the  close  of  Holy  Week ;  and  likewise  of  events 
immediately  preceding:  plays  of  the  Passion  from 
Gethsemane  to  the  Crucifixion  ;  of  the  Mount  of  Olives 
and  the  Last  Supper,  and  so  on  back  to  the  Entry  into 
Jerusalem.  Dates  are,  I  hope,  unnecessary  :  Creizenach, 
Mone,  Julleville,  Chambers,  Du  Meril,  Davidson,  will 
supply  them  in  detail.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  developed 
tropes  and  germinal  dramas  on  these  subjects,  less  and 
less  by  way  of  song  and  more  by  way  of  versified  speech, 
are  of  record  from  the  ninth  century  to  the  thirteenth ; 
and  that  scenes  of  the  great  drama  of  the  Passion  or  of 


EVOLUTION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     21 

the  Resurrection,  like  the  Lament  at  the  Cross,  and  the 
Pilgrims,  were  acted,  the  former  in  Lichfield,  the  latter 
at  the  Benedictbeuern  monastery  as  early  as  the  twelfth 
century.  A  complete  Passion  play  was  presented  in 
Siena  about  1200;  in  1220  we  hear  of  a  play  of  the 
Resurrection,  and  that  outside  the  church  in  the  church- 
yard, at  Beverley  in  Yorkshire.  And,  in  1244,  of  a  play 
of  Passion  and  Resurrection,  both  performed  in  Padua. 

Of  the  Beverley  Resurrection  play  of  1220  a  story  is 
told  in  the  series  of  the  Historians  of  the  Church  of  York, 
so  quaint  and  at  the  same  time  so  rich  in  historical 
association  that  I  cannot  pass  it  by.  Mr.  Leach,  in  his 
illuminating  article  on  Some  English  Plays  and  Players,  has 
translated  it;  and  I  follow  him  somewhat  closely: 

It  happened  that  one  summer  in  the  church-yard  of  St. 
John's  Church,  on  the  north  side,  there  was  a  representa- 
tion, as  usual,  by  masked  performers  (larvatorum)  of  the 
Lord's  Resurrection  [not  "Ascension,"  as  Mr.  Leach,  by 
some  slip,  has  it]  in  words  and  acting.  A  large  crowd 
of  both  sexes  was  assembled,  led  there  by  different  im- 
pulses, some  for  the  sake  of  mere  pleasure  or  wonder, 
others  for  the  holy  purpose  of  stimulating  their  devotional 
feelings.  But  since  there  was  little  chance  of  a  desirable 
position  for  seeing,  especially  in  the  case  of  very  short 
people  (because  the  crowd  stood  round  the  players  in  a 
dense  ring),  a  good  many  went  into  the  church,  some  to 
pray,  some  to  see  the  pictures  more  closely,  and  others 
to  while  away  the  day  in  any  kind  of  recreation  or  con- 
tentment that  might  offer.  Some  youths  when  they  got 
inside  happened  to  find  a  door  half  open  which  gave 
access  to  the  steps  up  to  the  top  of  the  walls.  With 
boyish  light-heartedness  they  climbed  up  and  went  to 
the  vaults  and  galleries  (the  clerestory  and  triforium)  on 
the  top  of  the  church  to  get,  I  suppose,  through  the 
lofty  windows  of  the  towers,  or  any  apertures  there  might 


22         PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

be  in  the  stained-glass  window,  a  better  view  of  the  garb 
and  gestures  of  the  performers,  and  to  hear  their  speeches 
more  easily, —  like  Zaccheus  when  he  climbed  up  the 
sycamore  tree.  Some  one,  however,  told  the  sextons 
what  the  youths  were  doing,  and  as  they  were  afraid  that 
the  boys  would  make  holes  in  the  windows  for  the  sake 
of  seeing  the  performers,  they  at  once  gave  chase,  and 
by  dint  of  heavy  blows  made  them  retreat.  But  some 
of  the  lads,  seeing  the  punishment  inflicted  on  their  com- 
panions, to  avoid  falling  into  the  hands  of  their  pursuers 
fled  to  regions  still  higher,  and  clambered  above  the 
great  cross  then  standing  by  St.  Martin's  altar.  One  of 
them,  as  he  was  looking  down,  placed  his  foot  on  a  block 
of  stone,  which  suddenly  gave  way  and  fell  with  a  loud 
crash  on  the  stone  pavement  and  was  broken  into  frag- 
ments. The  lad,  frightened  at  the  noise,  lost  his  hold 
and  fell  also  to  the  ground,  and  lay  senseless  and  as  if 
dead.  The  bystanders  wept,  the  parents  tore  their  hair 
and  wailed.  But  God  did  not  suffer  the  church,  dedi- 
cated in  the  honour  of  him  and  his  confessor  (Saint  John 
of  Beverley,  Archbishop  of  York),  to  be  polluted  by  the 
shedding  of  human  blood ;  but  wishing  it  to  enjoy 
greater  sanctity  for  the  future,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
give  testimony  to  the  truth  which  was  then  being  shown 
in  the  representation  of  the  Resurrection,  in  the  sight  of 
all  those  present  he  raised  up  the  youth  supposed  to  be 
dead,  whole,  without  the  smallest  injury  in  any  part  of 
his  body.  Thus  it  happened  that  those  who  could  not 
through  the  multitude  of  people  be  present  at  the  repre- 
sentation outside  the  church,  saw  a  more  marvellous 
proof  of  the  resurrection  inside;  and  not  only  of  the 
resurrection,  but  also  of  the  Lord's  passion. 

This  was  written  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  Human  nature,  of  course,  was  the  same  then 
as  it  is  now:  crowds  will  not  stand  back;  people  of  low 
stature  will  seek  other  amusements  or  even  take  to  say- 
ing their  prayers  if  the  stalwarts  in  front  shut  off  all  view 


EVOLUTION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     23 

of  the  stage;  boys  will  climb  and  break  windows,  the 
police  will  garnish  zeal  with  folly;  accidents  will  happen, 
bystanders  weep,  and  parents,  broken-hearted,  tear  their 
hair.  Miraculous  escapes  still  awaken  a  sensation  of 
mystery  and  awe,  sometimes  a  vague  sense  of  gratitude 
to  something  unknown;  but  they  are  somewhat  differ- 
ently reported  nowadays. 

In  to-day's  paper,  July  6,  1906,  I  read: 

Special  Despatch  to  the  Chronicle. 

CHICAGO. — "Goo-goo-goo!"  gurgled  Baby  Providence 
Blanda,  as  she  waved  her  little  arms  and  tried  to  tell  a 
gathering  crowd  how  it  felt  to  fall  four  stories  and  alight 
unhurt,  comfortably  seated  on  a  hard  cement  sidewalk. 

When  neighbours  who  had  heard  of  the  accident  came 
to  the  Blanda  home  to-day  to  help  the  mother  make  ar- 
rangements for  the  funeral,  they  were  amazed  to  see  the 
fourteen-months-old  baby  prattling  to  herself  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  while  visitors  chatted  of  its  strange 
escape  from  death. 

Leonard  Warner,  two  years  of  age,  floated  from  a  third- 
story  window  at  427  Twenty-fifth  street  on  a  window 
screen  to-day.  The  right  arm  of  the  child  was  wrenched, 
but  this  was  the  only  injury.  The  little  boy  was  trying 
to  catch  a  noisy  bluefly  that  had  flown  against  the  screen. 
He  leaned  against  the  screen,  which  fell.  The  boy,  lean- 
ing on  the  screen,  arrived  at  the  sidewalk  without  change 
of  position.  [No  comment.] 

Six  hundred  and  seventy-six  years  ago  they  were  a 
credulous  people,  and  they  had  ecclesiastics  for  reporters. 
The  reporter  of  1230,  says  Mr.  Leach,  "improves  the 
occasion:  'The  stone  falling  without  the  intervention  of 
man  [query  and  surprise !]  plainly  indicates  the  Lord's 
incarnation  from  a  virgin  ;  the  fall  of  both,  viz.  stone  and 
man,  signified  his  passion  as  man  and  God.  The  stone 


24         PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

broken  in  the  fall  was  the  type  of  the  ram  slain ;  and  the 
youth,  the  type  of  Isaac  remaining  unharmed.  And  in 
like  manner  as  the  fall  was  in  His  humanity  a  sign  of  His 
passion,  so  his  miraculous  rising  was  in  his  Godhead  a  sign 
of  His  resurrection.' ' 

Truly  the  times  have  changed,  and  signs  and  wonders 
and  scriptural  exegesis  and  the  annalists  with  them. 

FROM  THE  CHRISTMAS  TROPE 

The  Christmas  series  had  its  germ,  as  was  said  above, 
in  an  imitation  of  the  Easter  trope.  The  Christmas  trope 
is  of  the  quest  of  the  Shepherds,  and  begins  : 

Quern  qutfritis  in  pr*sepe,  pastor  es,  dicite  ? 

The  Latin  is  given  by  Gautier,  Du  Meril,  and  others.  I 
translate  — 

On  Christmas  day  let  two  deacons  be  prepared,  clad  in  dal- 
matics, and  behind  the  altar  let  them  say : 

Whom  seek  ye  in  the  manger,  Shepherds,  say  ? 

Let  two  choir-boys  reply  : 

The  Saviour,  Christ  the  Lord,  a  babe  wrapped  in  swad- 
dling clothes,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Angel. 

Then  the  deacons : 

The  child  is  here,  with  Mary  his  mother,  concerning 
whom  in  prophecy  Isaiah  foretold  :  Lo,  a  Virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bring  forth  a  Son.  Now,  proclaiming,  tell 
that  He  is  born. 

Then  the  Cantor  shall  say  in  a  shrill  voice : 

Alleluia,  alleluia.  Now  we  know  in  truth  that  Christ 
is  born  on  earth  ;  of  whom,  sing  all  ye,  saying  with 
the  prophet,  Christ  is  born. 


g 
S 


EVOLUTION   OF    LITURGICAL   PLAYS     25 

This  trope  is  from  a  St.  Gall  manuscript  which  Mr. 
Chambers  assigns  to  the  eleventh  century.  It  is  found 
also  in  a  brief  Officium  Pastorum  which,  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  formed  part  of  the  Christmas  service  in  Rouen1, 
and  it  was  followed,  on  Epiphany,  by  an  Officium  Trium 
Regum  much  more  elaborate.  The  trope  must  have  been 
of  much  earlier  composition  than  either  of  these  manu- 
scripts, for  an  Orleans  play  of  the  twelfth  century,  in  which 
it  appears,  has  amalgamated  the  stories  of  the  star,  the 
Magi,  Herod,  the  shepherds,  and  the  birth  in  the  manger, 
and  has  already  passed  from  the  church  to  the  gates  of  the 
monastery.  The  trope  form  must  even  have  preceded  a 
still  earlier  manuscript  of  the  tenth  century  of  Freising ; 
for  there,  also,  the  fusion  of  stories  has  taken  place  and  the 
ceremonial  element  has  given  way  to  the  dramatic.  Nor  is 
this  all,  —  the  episode  of  Herod  in  the  Orleans  and  Frei- 
sing plays  points  to  a  common  original,  for  neither  of  these 
was  borrowed  from  the  other.  Both  of  them,  moreover, 
are  succeeded  by  a  play  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents, 
which  likewise  indicates  a  common  source.  As  early 
therefore  as  the  tenth  century,  maybe  earlier,  there  were 
developed  at  various  places  on  the  continent  at  least  three 
Christmas  plays  :  the  Shepherds,  the  Magi,  and  the  Inno- 
cents ;  and  these  plays  had  so  far  left  the  ceremonial  trope 
behind  that  they  were  already  acted  outside  of  the  church 
and  apart  from  the  service.  The  common  material  for 
these  and  succeeding  plays  is  of  course  the  scriptural 
account;  but  it  is  most  interesting  to  observe  that  the 
scriptural  participants  in  these  early  plays  —  Herod, 
scribes,  wise  men  of  the  East,  Herod's  messenger, 
soldiers,  mothers  of  Israel  —  have  already  developed  the 
features  that  characterise  them  in  the  popular  cycles  of 
1  Du  Meril,  Orig.  Lat.t  p.  147. 


26        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  later  middle  ages:  the  messenger  fawns,  the  Herod 
blusters,  the  soldiers  counsel,  and  the  counsellors  tremble, 
here  as  there.  Even  the  fictitious  personalities  of  the 
English  popular  miracles  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries  are  already  upon  the  stage.  The  midwives  of 
the  Chester  and  so-called  Coventry  cycles,  and  Herod's 
son  of  the  cycle  of  York,  figure  in  the  plays  of  Orleans 
and  Freising,  and  in  the  common  source  of  both,  per- 
haps as  early  as  the  year  9OO.1  Liturgical  plays  of 
the  same  kind  exist  in  English  in  a  manuscript  of  the 
fifteenth  century  belonging  to  Shrewsbury  School;  but 
they  too  are  undoubtedly  the  successors  of  developed 
tropes  of  much  earlier  date.  All  through  the  thirteenth 
century  English  ecclesiastics  were  thundering  against 
the  participation  of  clerks  in  regular  orders  in  the 
outdoor  miracles  which  were  the  offspring  of  liturgical 
drama;  and  in  the  Lichfield  statutes  of  1188-98  such 
liturgical  dramas,  both  of  the  Shepherds  and  the  Resurrec- 
tion, are  mentioned  as  a  thoroughly  established  institution 
for  Christmas  and  Eastertide.  Plays  of  the  Shepherds 
and  the  Three  Kings  are  customary  in  York  in  1255. 

The  Christmas  cycle,  like  that  of  Easter,  grew  by 
gemination.  It  was  but  an  easy  step  backward  to  the 
dramatisation  of  the  betrothal  of  Mary  and  Joseph, 
the  annunciation,  and  so  forth  ;  and  also  of  the  sermon 
against  the  Jews,  Pagans,  and  others,  ascribed  to  St. 
Augustine  and  read  in  the  Christmas  season.  For  here 
the  Hebrew  prophets  and  pagans,  such  as  the  Sibyl,  who 
was  supposed  to  have  written  the  Signs  of  Judgment  (of 
which  we  shall  later  have  something  to  say),  and  Virgil, 
who  foretold  the  Golden  Age,  are  called  upon  to  witness 

1  The  Rouen,  Freising,  and  Orleans  plays  are  reprinted  in  Davidson, 
Engl.  Mystery  Plays t  pp.  50,  ft  Jfy. 


EVOLUTION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     27 

of  the  coming  Christ.  From  a  collective  play  of  the 
Prophets  (and  one  such,  in  Latin,  of  the  e  eventh  century, 
still  exists),1  the  passage  was  inevitable  to  individual 
plays  of  the  more  romantic  or  historically  attractive 
characters  among  them :  and  so  sprang  into  being  about 
1 1 60  the  Dante!  of  one  Hilarius,  probably  an  English- 
man, who  wrote  in  Latin  with  French  refrains ;  and  a 
scene  between  the  Sibyl  and  the  Roman  emperor  (a  relic 
of  which  is  still  embedded  in  one  of  our  cyclic  miracles) ; 
as  well  as  plays  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  David,  Gideon, 
Moses,  and  other  heroes,  with  more  or  less  reason  in- 
cluded in  this  or  that  "  prophetic  procession." 

But  by  this  time  the  interest  had  been  transferred  from 
prophecy  to  history;  and  the  dramatist  might  as  well 
go  back  at  once  to  Isaac  and  Rebecca,  and  the  sacrifice 
of  Isaac,  and  Cain  and  Abel,  and  Adam.  And  so  our 
ancestors  reasoned  and  did.  A  famous  Norman-French, 
maybe  Anglo-Norman,  play  of  the  twelfth  century  called 
the  Ordo  representations  Ad*,  written  for  public  and 
open-air  performance,  begins  with  Adam,  takes  in  Cain 
and  Abel,  and  includes  the  Prophets.  What  more  it  in- 
cluded we  don't  know,  for  the  rest  is  lost.  When,  in 
Regensburg,  in  1195,  a  play  of  the  Creation  of  the 
World  and  the  Fall  of  Lucifer  was  given,  the  backward 
development  of  the  historical  cycle  was  complete. 

The  play  of  Adam  is  historically  interesting  because 
evidently  an  outgrowth  of  a  processional  representation 
of  the  Prophets,  and  as  such  a  connecting  link  between 
the  church  sermon  and  the  popular  drama.  It  is  also 
remarkable  for  dramatic  originality,  invention  of  real- 
istic episodes,  and  adaptation  of  characters  and  their 
"  lines  "  to  the  edification  of  the  peasant  beholders  for 

1  Mystere  da  Prophetes  du  Christ  of  Limoges ;  in  Du  Meril,  p.  1 79. 


28         PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

whom  it  was  intended.  Adam  is  manifestly  conscious 
not  only  of  responsibility,  but  of  a  certain  superiority 
to  the  fair-faced  and  care-free  lass  who  makes  responsi- 
bility only  too  difficult  for  him.  The  devil  is  a  hand- 
some, wily,  truly  seductive  young  gallant,  who  flatters 
Eve  not  only  on  the  score  of  beauty,  but  of  her  wo- 
manly instinct, —  how  could  Adam,  he  insinuates,  who 
has  refused  to  eat  the  tempting  fruit  of  knowledge  him- 
self, possibly  be  deemed  an  arbiter  in  matters  of  taste  ? 
Cain  is  the  close,  calculating,  irreverent  churl  whose 
character  is  stamped  on  all  succeeding  versions  of  his 
part.  The  Jews  of  the  synagogue  by  no  means  suffer 
the  prophets  of  Christ  to  make  out  their  case  without 
due  opposition,  and  Balaam  appears  upon  his  ass  —  but 
Balaam  is  too  entertaining  a  possibility  to  be  discussed 
as  a  mere  accessory  to  any  procession.  Here  he  plays 
no  very  impressive  role ;  but  having  appeared,  he  must 
be  accorded  dramatic  treatment  by  himself —  and  that 
presently. 

FROM  TROPES  OF  ADVENT,  ASCENSION,  ETC. 

So  far  the  materials  for  a  world-cycle  had  been 
furnished  by  the  scriptures  appropriate  to  the  festivals 
of  Christ's  birth  and  his  resurrection.  There  remained 
but  one  step  to  complete  the  movement,  and  that  was 
suggested  by  the  scriptures  appropriate  to  Advent,  Holy 
Thursday,  and  Whitsun  Day.  Of  these  the  first  cele- 
brates the  entry  of  our  Lord  into  Jerusalem,  and  so 
connects  the  story  of  his  birth  and  active  career  with 
that  of  his  passion  and  resurrection.  It  also,  indirectly, 
connects  his  resurrection  with  the  whole  after-story  of 
the  church  militant ;  for  the  collects,  introits,  and  scrip- 


EVOLUTION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     29 

tures  of  Advent  sound  the  cry  not  merely  of  the  first 
Coming  of  our  Lord  in  humiliation  and  grace,  but  of 
his  second  Coming  in  glory  and  judgment :  "  Behold 
the  Bridegroom  cometh " ;  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
nigh  at  hand  "  ;  "  Make  straight  the  way  of  the  Lord  "  ; 
"  Behold,  O  people  of  Sion,  the  Lord  will  come  to  save 
the  nations."  And  there  proceed,  accordingly,  from 
the  celebration  of  the  Advent  season  dramas  of  the  Wise 
and  Foolish  Virgins,  and  of  the  Man  of  Sin,  the  Anti- 
christ, who  is  to  trouble  the  nations  before  the  day  of 
that  second  advent  of  the  Lord. 

A  specimen  of  the  former,  called  The  Bridegroom 
or  Sponsus,  opening 

Adest  sponsus  qui  est  Christus ;  vigilate  virgines 

is  preserved  in  a  manuscript  of  about  1 1 50  from  Limoges.1 
It  is  written  in  a  mixture  of  Latin  and  the  vernacular 
French,  and  is  well  adapted  by  action  alone  to  terrify 
the  simple,  and  by  the  music  of  its  verse  to  impress  the 
learned.  As  in  the  parable,  the  foolish  virgins  turn  in 
despair,  — 

Wail,  O  caitifs,  we  have  slept  too  long,  — 

from  the  wise  who  have  but  oil  sufficient  for  themselves 
to  the  sellers  of  oil,  who  in  turn  send  them  back  to  their 
wise  sisters  and  to  God, 

Go,  seek  your  sisters  sage,  and  pray  them  by  God  the 
glorious,  for  succour  of  their  oil,  Faites  o  tosty  queja  venra 
I'espos. 

The  foolish  ones  come,  weeping,  to  the  marriage-door ; 

1  See  Creizenach,  I,  77.  Texts  in  Romania  xxii  j  Du  Meril,  Orig. 
Lat.,  233-237. 


jo         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

but  the  Bridegroom  has  arrived,  and  turns  them  away 

with 

Amen  dico>  vos  ignosco,  nam  caretis  famine, 

£>uod  qui  perdunt ,  procul  pergunt  bujus  aulae  limine. 

Lamentation,  devils,  and  eternal  woe  ! 

Of  the  Antichrist  legend,  the  earliest  dramatisation  is 
in  Latin  by  a  German  poet  of  the  Tegernsee,  and 
probably  of  a  date  near  1160.  Of  the  legend  and  its 
origin  I  shall  later  give  an  account ;  the  text  of  the 
drama  may  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  Shakespeare 
Society's  edition  of  the  Chester  Plays,  and  in  more 
recent  publications.1  The  play  is  some  six  hundred  lines 
in  length,  and  is  written  with  tremendous  force  and  de- 
cided constructive  skill.  With  its  pomp  of  emperors 
and  kings  ;  its  display  of  the  signs  and  wonders  by  which 
the  Antichrist  wins  recognition  of  his  Messiahship ;  its 
presentation  of  classes  and  abstract  ideas,  virtues,  and 
vices  under  characteristic  names :  hypocrite,  synagoga, 
ecclesia,  gentilitas ;  its  Devil,  the  son  of  a  devil,  com- 
missioning vices,  Heresy  and  Hypocrisy,  to  seduce  the 
innocent;  —  with  its  use  of  legend,  scripture,  history, 
morality,  symbol,  and  marvel,  all  in  one,  it  may  justly  be 
regarded  as  the  founder  of  a  new  species  of  drama  destined 
to  flourish  in  other  countries,  though  not  till  two  cen- 
turies later:  a  combination  of  the  miracle  and  the  moral 
play.  Here  it  interests  us  as  an  Advent  contribution 
to  the  development  of  the  Judgment  series. 

Similarly,  the  service  for  Holy  Thursday  or  Ascension 
Day  lent  itself  to  the  dramatisation  of  the  later  events  of 
Christian  story.  In  the  eleventh  century  a  processional 
trope  of  the  Ascension,  beginning — 

1  From  Fez,  Thesaurus  t  Antcdat.  Nevus.,  II,  187.    See  Creizenich, 


EVOLUTION   OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS    31 

Quern  creditis  super  asfra  ascendisse,  0  Christicol*  ? 
Resp.     Christum  qui  surrexit  de  sepulchro,  O  c#licol<e. 

was  used  in  the  church  of  St.  Martial  at  Limoges ; *  and 
in  an  English  troper  of  Canterbury,  of  equal  antiquity,  we 
find  a  variant,  opening  Quern  cernitis  ascendisse  super  astra  ? 
Dramatic  representations  were  soon  elaborated  out  of 
these,  and  were,  undoubtedly,  soon  combined  with  those 
of  Whitsun  Day,  which  falls  but  ten  days  after  Holy 
Thursday.  Indeed  the  Whitsun  celebration  of  the 
descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  rapidly  assumed,  because  of  its 
seasonable  date  in  May  or  early  June,  a  leading  place 
among  the  spectacular  festivals  of  the  year.  And  to- 
gether with  the  display  of  the  symbols  of  the  Pentecost, 
which  obtained  all  over  Europe,  there  came  to  be  pre- 
sented on  Whitsun  Day,  and  the  days  following,  perform- 
ances which  covered  a  half  or  the  whole  of  the  history  of 
holy  writ.  The  earliest  record  preserved  of  such  a  per- 
formance is  from  Cividale  in  Italy,  where,  on  the  Pentecost 
and  the  two  succeeding  days  of  1298,  there  was  acted  a 
"  representation  of  the  Play  of  Christ,  viz.  His  passion, 
resurrection,  ascension,  the  advent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
coming  of  Christ  to  judgment,  by  the  clergy  of  the  town." 
Here  was  a  sequence  in  one  of  all  elements  of  the  latter 
half  of  the  cycle.  And  in  1303,  according  to  the  same 
chronicle,2  the  former  and  the  latter  parts  are  at  last 
brought  into  conjunction :  "  In  the  year  1303,"  says 
Giuliano,  "  there  was  performed  by  the  clergy,  or  chapter 
of  the  city,  a  representation ;  or,  rather,  representations 
were  performed  as  follows :  first  of  the  Creation  of  our 
first  parents  ;  then  of  the  Annunciation  of  the  Blessed 

1  Gautier,  Les  Tropaires,  219. 

2  Giuliano    da    Cividale,    Cronaca    Friulana    from    D'Ancona,    and 
Muratori,  in  Chambers,  I,   77. 


32        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Virgin,  the  Nativity  and  many  other  matters;  then  of 
the  Passion  and  the  Resurrection,  the  Ascension  and  the 
Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  of  Antichrist  and  other 
matters;  and  finally  of  the  Coming  of  Christ  to  Judg- 
ment. And  sermons  were  preached  in  the  cathedral 
church  on  the  feast  of  the  Pentecost  and  the  two  days 
following." 

Thus  from  collect,  introit,  lesson,  or  gospel,  to  proces- 
sional and  trope ;  from  trope  to  liturgical  drama ;  from 
that  to  a  series  of  sacred  dramas ;  and  from  the  three 
great  series, —  the  Nativity  and  its  prophetic  prologue, 
the  Resurrection  and  its  antecedent  Passion,  the  Ascension 
and  its  sequel  to  the  Second  Coming  of  Christ, —  from 
these  three  series  to  the  cosmic  cycle,  gradually  and 
imperceptibly  the  miracle  plays  of  the  middle  ages  grew, 
gaining  in  stature  and  in  favour  with  the  people ;  and  in 
due  proportion  losing  favour  with  the  church  to  which 
they  owed  their  birth. 

Not  every  play,  of  course,  could  trace  its  genealogy  to 
the  twin  egg  of  liturgy  and  festival.  Once  sacred  perform- 
ances had  become  common,  some  were  made  for  the 
festival  without  reference  to  the  trope,  and  vice  versa; 
and  presently  plays  of  saints  or  of  biblical  lore  were 
composed  for  an  occasional  emergency  or  for  edification ; 
finally  for  amusement  alone. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       33 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS 

THE  FEAST  OF  THE  Ass 

I  HAVE  already  said  that  Balaam  deserves  a  section  to 
himself.  He  and  his  ass  —  especially  the  ass  —  were 
destined  to  play  sad  havoc  with  certain  sacred  festivals  in 
which  at  first  they  had  played  an  innocent  and  even  laud- 
able part.  Once  the  donkey  thrust  his  head  within  the 
church-door,  liturgy,  festival,  and  drama  were  lost  in  the 
stupor  of  his  ears  or  the  bathos  of  his  braying.  He 
began,  I  think,  with  Balaam  and  the  procession  of 
Prophets,  proceeded  with  the  Magi,  and  then  with  the 
Virgin,  who  unwarily  rode  him  into  Egypt,  and  ended 
with  Christ  himself  in  the  once  solemn,  nay,  even  tri- 
umphant, Palm  Sunday  approach  to  Jerusalem.  The 
Prophets,  the  Flight  into  Eygpt,  and  the  Entry,  he  turned 
into  festivals  of  his  own,  variously  denominated,  but 
always  feasts  of  parody,  irreverence,  frequently  of  drunk- 
enness and  obscenity.  Without  doubt  some  of  the  pro- 
fanity and  pagan  practice  which  characterised  these  orgies 
was  a  survival  of  prechristian  rites  by  which  Teutons 
and  Celts,  even  Romans  as  well,  had  been  wont  to 
welcome  the  approach  of  spring  or  propitiate  that  of 
winter ;  but  the  favouring  occasion  in  lands  and  among 
peoples  called  Christian  was  the  appearance  of  a  donkey 
in  the  church. 

3 


34        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  sixth  century  sermon  of  the  Pseudo-Augustine 
against  Jews,  Pagans,  and  Arians,  in  which  the  proph- 
ets were  summoned  to  bear  witness  of  Christ,  may 
have  been  the  innocent  promoter  of  the  scandal.  For, 
though  the  preacher  himself  refrained  from  enlisting 
Balaam  among  the  prophets,  and  though  we  have  no 
manuscript  authority  for  the  appearance  of  the  Aramaean 
in  that  role  as  a  dramatic  character  before  the  eleventh 
century,  Balaam's  pretension  to  the  honour  was  inevitable ; 
and  his  pre-eminence,  if  once  he  were  admitted,  was 
irresistible.  As  soon  as  the  prophets  of  Christ's  Coming 
stepped  out  of  the  sermon  into  a  ceremonial  procession, 
Balaam  slipped  into  the  throng.  You  could  not  suppress 
him  :  he  had  a  vested  and  even  prior  right.  What  earlier 
and  more  explicit  prognostication  of  the  Messiah  than 
his  —  "I  shall  see  Him,  but  not  now:  I  shall  behold 
him,  but  not  nigh :  there  shall  come  a  Star  out  of  Jacob, 
and  a  Sceptre  shall  rise  out  of  Israel,  and  shall  smite  the 
corners  of  Moab,  and  destroy  all  the  children  of  Sheth  "  ? 
Indeed,  he  must  have  joined  the  ecclesiastical  procession 
in  the  gorgeous  ritual  of  Christmas,  or  the  Circumcision, 
or  Epiphany  or  the  octave  of  Epiphany,  long  before  the 
date  of  his  earliest  surviving  witness.  And  where  Balaam 
marched,  his  ass  marched  under  him.  The  Mystery  of 
the  Prophets  of  Christ  of  Limoges,1  eleventh  century, 
which  dramatises  the  pseudo-Augustinian  sermon  of  the 
sixth,  does  not  present  a  Balaam ;  but  that  does  not  pre- 
clude the  probability  of  earlier  adaptations  which  did 
present  him  but  have  not  survived:  even  this  mystery 
varies  somewhat  the  prophets  of  the  original  sermon,  — 
what  may  others  have  done  ? 

1  Du  Meril,  Qrigines  Latines,  179. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       35 

The  earliest  appearance  of  the  Ass  in  a  ritual  called 
by  his  name  we  shall  presently  examine.  He  is,  how- 
ever, pervasive  of  burlesques  of  ecclesiastical  ceremonial ; 
and  it  is  not  always  easy  to  determine  the  exact  excuse 
for  his  presence  when  the  name  of  the  festival  has  not 
been  preserved.  We  are  told  that  under  the  dissolute 
Michael  III  of  Constantinople  (842-867)  one  Theoph- 
ilus,  a  buffoon  of  the  court,  was  invested  in  the  robes 
of  the  patriarch ;  and  that,  attended  by  twelve  roysterers 
whom  he  called  his  metropolitans,  clad  also  in  ecclesi- 
astical vestments,  he  desecrated  the  sacred  vessels  of  the 
altar  and  parodied  the  holy  communion.  Then  that, 
mounted  on  a  white  ass,  on  the  day  of  a  solemn  festival, 
and  with  his  train,  in  which  the  Emperor  himself  figured, 
ie  met  the  true  patriarch  at  the  head  of  the  clergy  and 
by  licentious  shouts  and  obscene  gestures  disordered  that 
procession.1  This  escapade  may  have  been  a  burlesque 
of  the  processio  prophetarum  conducted  by  the  true  patri- 
arch, or  of  the  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  or  it  may  have  been 
unpremeditated  devilry.  At  any  rate,  the  ass  is  in  evi- 
dence ;  and  also  the  revulsion  against  the  straitness  of 
religious  ceremony. 

There  is  a  tradition  to  the  effect  that  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  eleventh  century  Heribert  IV  persuaded  the 
clergy  of  the  Vermandois  to  suppress  the  Feast  of  the 
Ass.  This  tradition  has  been  doubted ;  but  in  a  manu- 
script of  the  years  1160-1180  which  used  to  be  in  the 
cathedral  library  of  Beauvais2  there  was  preserved  until 
the  seventeenth  century  the  ritual  of  the  Feast  itself — 
Fesfa  Asinaria.  It  was  a  development  of  the  officium  or 
service  for  the  eve  of  the  Circumcision,  *.  e.  for  New 

1  Gibbon,  IV,  206 ;  and  Chambers,  1,328. 

2  Chambers,  I,  285. 


36        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Year's  eve ;  and  it  is  described  by  French  writers  as  late 
as  the  eighteenth  century.  The  date  of  its  composition 
was  shown  by  the  fact  that  it  closed  with  a  prayer  for 
Louis  VII  and  his  queen,  Adele.  This  first  manuscript 
has  disappeared,  but  a  second  of  about  half  a  century 
later  has  recently  been  discovered  in  the  British  Museum 
by  Mr.  Chambers,  who  describes  it  in  his  Mediaeval  Stage. 
From  the  accounts  of  the  two  manuscripts  the  service 
may  be  to  some  extent  reconstructed. 

At  the  first  vespers  the  Cantor  intoned  in  the  middle 
of  the  nave  a  hymn  of  the  day  of  gladness :  "  Let  no 
sour-faced  person  stay  within  the  church ;  away  on  this 
day  with  envy  and  heartache,  let  all  be  cheerful  who 
would  celebrate  the  feast  of  the  ass"  — 

Lux  hodie,  lux  laetitiae,  me  judice  tristis 
Quisquis  erit,  removendus  erit  solemnibus  istis, 
Sint  hodie  procul  invidiae,  procul  omnia  maesta, 
Laeta  volunt,  quicunque  colunt  asinaria1  festa. 

After  lauds  all  marched  from  the  cathedral  to  welcome 
the  ass  which  stood  in  waiting  at  the  great  door.  The 
door  being  then  shut,  each  of  the  canons  stood  with  bot- 
tle of  wine  and  glass  in  hand  while  the  Cantor  chanted 
the  Processional  of  Drink,  Conductus  ad  Poculum  : 

"Solemnise,  O  Christ,  the  Kalends  of  January,  and  as 
King  acknowledged,  receive  us  at  Thy  nuptials  "  — 

Kalendas  Januarias 
Solennes,  Christe,  facias, 
Et  nos  ad  tuas  nuptias, 
Vocatus  rex,  suscipias. 

One  may  picture  the  pause,  the  beast  in  his  priestly 
trappings  encircled  by  hilarious  celebrants,  the  popping 

1  The  second  Beauvais  has  prasentla. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS      37 

of  corks  and  gurgling  of  wine,  the  toasting  of  "my  lord, 
the  Ass,"  the  quaffing  of  deep  draughts.  Suddenly  the 
door  is  thrown  open,  and  up  the  aisle  the  procession 
streams,  conducting  the  Ass  with  song : 

Orientis  partibus 
Adventavit  Asinus, 
Pulcher  et  fortissimus 
Sarcinis  aptissimus. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  car  chantez, 
Belle  bouche,  rechignez, 
Vous  aurez  dufoin  assez 
Et  de  Vavoine  a  plantez. 


Amen  dicas,  Asine,  (hie  genuflect  ebatur) 
Jam  satur  de  gramine, 
Amen,  Amen,  itera, 
Aspernare  vetera. 

Hez  va,  hez  va  !  hez  va,  hez  ! 
Bialx,  Sire  Asms,  car  chantez  ; 
Vous  aurez  dufoin  assez 
Et  de  lJavoine  a  plantez. 

Nine  stanzas  in  all,  of  which  these  are  the  first  and  last ; 
while  the  following  is  a  translation  of  the  whole,  not  all 
sophisticated,  I  hope,  nor  altogether  slavish : 

Out  of  the  regions  of  the  East 
The  Ass  arrives,  most  potent  beast, 
Piercing  our  hearts  with  his  pulchritude, 
And  for  our  burdens,  well  endued. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  come  sing  and  say, 
Open  your  gorgeous  mouth  and  bray : 
Tou  shall  have  hay,  your  fill  alway, 
Tou  shall  have  oats,  to  boot,  to-day  ! 


38        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Slow  is  he  upon  his  feet, 

Mortal  slow,  unless  you  beat 

Him  with  a  stick,  and  strike  in  his  sides 

Spurs  that  no  mortal  ass  abides. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

He,  in  the  mountains  of  Sichen, 
Nurtured  of  old  was,  near  Reuben: 
The  waters  of  Jordan  he  forded  'em, 
Came  a-prancing  to  Bethlehem. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

See  him,  with  his  generous  ears, 
Sprout  of  yoke-enduring  years,  — 
Most  egregious  Ass  is  he, 
Lord  of  Asses,  certainly. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

Fawns  are  nowhere  when  he  leaps,  — 
Does  nor  kids,  —  on  parlous  steeps ; 
Nor  the  Midian  dromedary 
When  he  marches,  velox,  very. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

Frankincense,  Arabian  gold, 
Myrrh  of  Saba,  —  now,  behold, 
His  the  virtue  asinine 
Bore  within  the  church  divine. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

While  your  carts,  all  kinds,  he  drags 
Full  of  fardels,  packs,  and  bags, 
Still  his  philosophic  jaw 
Triturates  the  patient  straw. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

Barley  grinds  he  with  its  beard, 
Feasts  on  thistles,  purple-speared, 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       39 

Thrashes  in  his  own  back-yard 
Corn  from  stubble,  chewing  hard. 

Hez,  Sire  Asnes,  etc. 

Say  Amen,  most  reverend  Ass,  (they  kneel) 
Now  your  belly  's  full  of  grass  : 
Bray  Amen,  again,  and  bray; 
Spurn  old  customs  down  the  way. 

Hez  va  !  hez  va  !  hez  va  !  hez  ! 
Open  your  beautiful  mouth  and  bray ; 
A  bottle  o  hay,  and  the  devil  to  pay, 
And  oats  a-plenty  for  you,  to-day. 

This  is  the  "  Prose  "  of  the  Ass,  —  a  chant  interpolated 
into  the  regular  service,  —  and  itself  the  central  feature 
of  the  Asinaria  as  distinguished  from  its  cognate  festum 
stultorum.  Of  that  Feast  of  Fools,  which  came  to  be 
amalgamated  with  the  ceremony  of  the  Ass,  the  distinc- 
tive features  are  the  transference  of  the  precentor's  staff 
to  a  subdeacon  who  has  been  chosen  domlnus  festi, 
bishop,  pope,  or  king  of  fools,  and  the  singing  of  what  is 
called  a  Prose  of  Fools.  Provision  is  made  for  the  trans- 
ference in  the  Beauvais  qfficia ;  but  for  the  ceremony  in 
full,  and  as  the  climax  of  the  vespers  of  the  second  day, 
we  shall  have  to  turn  to  another  ritual,  the  Officium 
Circumcisionis  of  the  cathedral  of  Sens.  In  several  ways 
it  supplements,  in  others  abridges,  the  more  primitive 
ritual  of  Beauvais. 

The  Sens  Officium  was  probably  written  by  Pierre  de 
Corbeil,  who  had  been  associated  with  the  famous  Eudes 
de  Sully,  bishop  of  Paris,  in  an  attempt  to  reform  the 
riotous  ceremony  of  the  Circumcision  in  Notre  Dame,  in 
the  year  1199.  This  Pierre  de  Corbeil  was  afterward 
bishop  coadjutor  of  Lincoln,  and  he  died  archbishop  of 


40        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Sens.  While  he  retained  the  Prose  of  the  Ass  for  first 
vespers  in  his  ritual  for  Sens,  it  is  possible  that  he  did  not 
admit  the  beast  within  the  church  edifice ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  he  eliminated  the  drinking-bout  before  the  pro- 
cessional. 

It  appears  to  have  been  the  custom  for  the  sub- 
deacons  and  secular  clergy  of  the  lower  orders  to  hail 
with  unseemly  mirth  the  singing  of  that  verse  of  the 
Magnificat  on  New  Year's  eve  which  runs  Deposuit 
potcntes  de  sede^  "He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from 
their  seat,  and  hath  exalted  the  humble  and  meek,"  and 
to  construe  too  literally  the  transference  of  the  staff  of 
authority  from  precentor  to  subdeacon  by  which  the 
sacred  lesson  was  symbolised.  Bells  had  been  irregularly 
jangled  before  the  service,  masks  prepared,  and  so  forth ; 
now  clerks  and  subdeacons  repeated,  ad  nauseam^  the 
Dfposuity  with  ribaldry  and  shouting;  changed  places 
and  probably  vestments  with  the  canons ;  sat  in  their 
stalls  ;  burlesqued  the  service,  and  marched  out  of  church 
to  a  drinking  song.  According  to  Dom  Grenier,  the 
censing  for  the  day  of  the  feast  was  done  with  pudding 
and  sausages ;  but  in  all  probability  this  sacrilege  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  ritual  itself  and  was  of  later 
origin. 

In  this  feast  elements  had  met"  which  could  not  but 
react  in  disorder,  irreverence,  tomfoolery,  riot.  From 
that  sobering  and  uplifting  clause,  "He  hath  put  down 
the  mighty,"  proceeded  the  opportunity  for  inversion  of 
status,  the  celebration  of  the  essential  equality  of  men. 
And,  since  that  was  exactly  the  conception  underlying  the 
jovial  festival  of  the  Roman  Kalends,  of  exactly  the  same 
season  of  the  year,  through  the  window  leaped  nature 
reassured.  At  the  Kalends  from  the  first  to  the  third 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       41 

of  January,  there  had  been  illumination  and  decoration 
of  houses,  revelry  in  the  streets,  disguises  and  maskings, 
men  parading  in  women's  clothes  and  in  the  skins  of 
animals.  There  had  been  gift-giving,  and  drinking  and 
gambling,  master  with  man.  Now  in  the  feast  of  the 
Deposal  of  the  Mighty,  from  an  early  date  known  as 
the  Feast  of  Fools,  there  were  included  not  only  these 
customs  of  pagan  Rome,  but  customs  inherited  from  bar- 
barian ancestors  of  the  west  —  unconscious  reminiscences 
of  festivals  propitiatory  of  animals  and  vegetables  and 
gods.  Hence  the  dancing,  the  drinking,  the  exchanging 
of  clothes,  the  turning  of  them  inside  out,  and  the 
parading  as  beasts.1 

On  the  other  side,  as  I  have  said,  from  the  association 
of  a  certain  prophet  of  Christ  with  the  rites  commemo- 
rative of  Christ's  nativity  and  youth,  sprang  that  ridi- 
cule of  the  sublime  which  made  of  the  Feast  of  the 
Circumcision,  and  soon  of  Christmas  and  Holy  Innocents' 
Day,  a  Festival  of  Asses  as  well. 

That  Balaam  is  to  be  blamed  for  the  introduction  of 
the  ass,  and  that  the  Magi  have  a  responsibility  only  less 
alarming,  appears  from  an  examination  of  the  constant 
factor  in  all  the  Fool-Ass  rites :  the  song  in  honour  of 
that  beast.  It  has  been  thought  by  some  that  the  open- 
ing words,  Orientis  partibus,  indicate  an  east  European 
birthplace  for  the  ceremony,  say  Constantinople,  where 
from  the  ninth  century  to  the  twelfth  ecclesiastical  festi- 
vals were  disgraced  by  orgies.  But  this  is  not  at  all 
likely.  The  first,  third,  and  fifth  stanzas  of  the  song 
point  directly  and  only  to  Balaam :  the  origin  is  there- 
fore in  the  prophets'  procession  of  the  early  church.  Of 

1  See  Fowler's  Roman  Festivals,  "  Kalends  of  January,"  "  Saturnalia," 
"Lupercalia." 


42         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

course  the  Asinus  came  orientis  partibus :  his  master 
Balaam  did  the  same.  "  Balak  the  king  of  Moab  hath 
brought  me  from  Aram,"  he  says,  "  out  of  the  mountains 
of  the  east."1  Of  course  the  dromedaries  whom  the 
Asinus  surpasses  in  speed  are  those  of  Midian,  for  Midian 
and  Moab  are  interchangeable  in  the  scripture  account. 
And  where  else  are  Moab,  Midian,  and  Aram  but  sub 
Reuben?  I  trust  the  reader  will  not  press  me  concerning 
Sichen  or  Shechem, —  I  refer  him  to  the  goliard  who 
wrote  the  song :  he  had  a  right  to  his  little  joke,  even  to 
the  extent  of  positing  Shechem  on  the  coast  of  Bohemia, 
if  he  pleased. 

So  much  for  the  responsibility  of  Balaam  ;  that  of 
the  Magi  is  confined  to  the  sixth  stanza,  and  in  all 
probability  was  of  later  attribution.  But  it  is  only  natu- 
ral that  not  having  camels,  and  having  already  discovered 
the  qualifications  of  the  ass,  the  celebrants  of  Epiphany 
should  have  early  transferred  to  the  latter  animal  the 
privilege  of  bearing  the  gifts  of  the  Three  Kings  into 
the  church. 

As  early  as  the  thirteenth  century,  and  the  first  half 
of  it,  the  Ass  derives  added  dignity  from  the  festival  of 
the  octave  of  Epiphany  when  the  flight  of  the  Virgin 
into  Egypt  was  commemorated.  "It  was  customary  in 
Beauvais,  every  year,  on  the  14  January,  to  represent  the 
Virgin  in  this  episode  by  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the 
city.  She  was  placed  on  an  ass  richly  caparisoned,  and 
an  infant  was  set  in  her  arms.  Thus  mounted  she  pre- 
ceded the  Bishop  and  his  clergy,  and  they  all  went  in 
grand  procession  from  the  cathedral  to  the  parish  church 
of  St.  Stephen.  On  entering  the  chancel,  they  ranged 
themselves  on  the  gospel  side  of  the  altar.  The  mass 
1  Numbers  xxiii,  7. 


INVASION   OF  THE   HUMOROUS       43 

immediately  commenced;  and  the  introit,  the  Lord  have 
mercy  upon  us,  the  Gloria  Patri,  the  Creed,  and  other  parts 
of  the  service  were  terminated  by  the  burden  of  Hin-ham, 
Hin-ham,  Kin-ham,  in  imitation  of  the  braying  of  an  ass. 
But  what  is  most  suprising,"  says  Du  Cange  in  this 
account  of  the  ceremony,  "  the  officiating  priest,  instead 
of  saying  If  a  missa  est  at  the  end  of  the  mass,  concluded 
by  singing  three  times  Hin-ham,  Hin-ham,  Hin-ham."1 
Hone,  in  his  account,  adds  that  the  audience  brayed  in 
reply,  and  that  during  the  performance  hymns  were 
sung  in  praise  of  the  Ass.2  In  a  play  of  Herod,  which 
was  early  acted  at  Autun  and  other  places,  the  Flight 
into  Egypt  was  without  doubt  included ;  and  since  Herod 
is  but  the  connecting  link  between  the  visit  of  the  Magi 
and  the  Flight,  a  play  covering  this  portion  of  the 
Nativity  would  introduce  the  Ass  both  at  the  beginning 
and  at  the  end. 

During  the  fourteenth  century  this  period  of  the  rule 
of  Herod  at  Autun  was  called  the  Feast  of  Fools.  At 
Rouen,  however,  the  Procession  of  the  Prophets  took 
place  on  Christmas  eve,  and  was  called  the  Processio 
Asinorum.  Of  this  ceremony  there  survives  a  fourteenth- 
century  Latin  ordinarium,3  beginning  Nota,  Cantor :  si  Fes- 
turn  Asinorum  fiat y  processio  ordinetur  post  Terciam.  Si  non 
fiat  Festum,  tune  fiat  processio,  ut  nunc  pr*enotetur.  And 
the  rubric  proceeds  to  order  the  march  of  the  prophets 
and  the  building  of  a  furnace  in  the  middle  of  the  nave 
of  the  church.  The  furnace  is  for  the  Three  Children, 
and  is  to  be  lighted  with  lint  and  tow  —  the  scene  for  a 

1  Hone's  account  is  based  on  this  of  Du  Cange,   Glossarium,  under 
"  Festum  Asinorum.' ' 

a  Hone,  Anc.  Myst.,  162. 

8  In  Du  Cange,  G/ossarium,  "  Festum  Asinorum.*' 


44        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

play  growing  out  of  the  presence  of  Daniel  and  Nebu- 
chadnezzar among  the  prophets.  Here,  also,  the  Balaam 
episode  has  its  little  play : 

Two  messengers  from  King  Balak  shall  say :  "  Balaam,  come 
and  do  thus." 

Then  Balaam,  in  fine  clothing  (ornatus),  sedens  super 
asinam,1  spurs  on  his  feet,  shall  hold  the  reins  and  drive  the 
spurs  into  the  Ass ;  and  a  youth  having  wings  and  brandish- 
ing a  sword  shall  stand  in  the  way  of  the  Ass.  Then  one 
within  the  Ass  shall  say, 

"  Why  dost  thou  lacerate  poor  me  with  thy  spurs  ? " 

When  this  is  said,  the  Angel  shall  say  to  him, 

"  Cease  from  doing  the  command  of  King  Balak  ! " 

Similarly  in  a  thirteenth-century  text  of  Laon,  the 
drama  of  Balaam  closes  the  Processio  Prophetarum. 

In  Germany,  and  elsewhere  on  the  continent,  the 
donkey  invaded  still  another  festival,  that  of  Palm 
Sunday.  On  that  day,  as  Naogeorgus  tells  us,2  "the 
anniversary  of  Christ's  riding  into  Jerusalem,  a  wooden 
ass,  with  an  image  on  it,  being  placed  on  a  platform  with 
wheels,  and  dressed  up,  was  drawn  by  the  people  bearing 
boughs  and  branches  of  palm  to  the  church  door.  On 
its  arrival  there  the  priest  blessing  the  branches,  con- 
verted them  into  assurances  for  a  year  against  loss  or 
damage  by  tempest ;  and  then,  prostrating  himself  before 
the  ass,  he  lay  on  his  face  till  another  priest  roused  him 
by  the  application  of  a  rod  of  the  largest  size.  On  his 
rising,  two  others  fell  on  their  faces  and  sang  in  that  posi- 

1  ««  Hence  the  name  of  the  festival,"  says  Du  Cange. 
*  Kirchmeycr,  transl.  by  Barnaby  Googe  :  in  N.  Shakespeare  Society, 
I.  33*- 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       45 

tion ;  afterwards,  standing  and  pointing  at  the  figure  on 
the  ass,  they  announced  that  olive-boughs  were  strewn 
before  him  because  he  had  come  to  redeem  the  faithful. 
This  ended,  the  ass  with  the  figure  being  moved  along, 
the  people  cast  branches  before  both ;  and  the  dummy 
was  drawn  into  the  church  in  procession,  the  priests  going 
before.  The  people  followed,  struggling  for  the  holy 
boughs  over  which  the  pageant  had  passed.  The  whole 
being  concluded,  the  boys  went  to  the  church  in  the 
afternoon,  and  bargained  with  the  sexton  for  the  use  of 
the  ass,  which  they  drew  through  the  streets,  singing 
verses  and  gathering  money,  bread,  and  eggs  from  the 
people." 

Here  again  is  an  entertaining  example,  not  only  of  the 
pervasive  quality  of  the  beast,  and  of  his  virtue  to  adorn 
with  nonsense  all  that  he  touched,  but  also  of  that 
attempt  at  idealising  pagan  folk-festivals  into  Christian 
ceremonies  which  long  ago  Gregory  the  Great  had  advised 
his  missionaries  to  make.  For  the  venerable  Bede  tells 
us  that  Gregory  was,  originally,  of  the  opinion  that 
Augustine  should  destroy  all  idols,  groves,  and  temples 
of  the  savage  Britons  whom  he  proposed  to  christianise. 
But  after  this  first  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  had  reached 
the  scene  of  his  activities  he  received  word  from  the  Pope 
that  the  policy  was  to  be  of  another  kind.  The  temples 
and  the  groves  and  festivals  need  not  be  destroyed,  but 
the  idols  must  be.  The  temples  should  be  sprinkled 
with  holy  water,  and  relics  of  sacred  objects  set  in  them 
to  take  the  place  of  the  idols  in  the  worship  of  the 
folk.  As  for  the  oxen  that  our  ancestors  were  wont  to 
immolate  to  their  heathen  gods,  they  should  now  be 
sacrificed  in  commemoration  of  Christian  mysteries  and 
miracles.  The  huts  of  branches  that  the  Britons  were 


46        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

used  to  erect  during  the  pagan  rites  might  still  be  built 
about  the  temples,  thus  transformed  into  churches,  on  the 
day  of  their  dedication,  or  on  the  festivals  of  the  martyrs 
whose  relics  they  contained.  Thus  the  rustic  folk,  while 
still  continuing  to  kill  their  cattle  and  celebrate  their 
solemnities  as  of  yore,  might  do  so  with  a  feasting  that 
had  become  religious. 

In  the  Palm  Sunday  festival  described  above,  the  flag- 
ellation of  the  priest  and  other  officiants  was,  in  fact,  a 
survival  of  an  ancient  folk-rite  by  which  at  Eastertide 
the  spirit  of  winter  or  of  death  was  expelled  from  the 
symbolic  representative  of  the  Old  Year ;  and  the  deck- 
ing with  palms  or  green  branches  of  willow  unconsciously 
perpetuated  the  symbolic  ritual  of  the  newly  awakened 
spirit  of  vegetation,  the  Mother  of  Months ;  the  Anna 
Perenna  of  the  Romans  as  of  the  Gauls.  These  pagan 
ceremonies  were  taken  up  into  the  beautiful  pageant  of 
the  Hosanna;  and  similarly  the  pagan  practice  of  retain- 
ing the  withered  branches  of  one  spring- festival  till  the 
beginning  of  the  following  spring,  was  perpetuated  under 
the  custom  of  blessing  on  Ash  Wednesday  the  ashes  of 
the  palms  over  which  the  benediction  had  been  pro- 
nounced the  Palm  Sunday  of  the  year  before. 

Brand,  in  his  Popular  Antiquities^  insinuates  that  the 
Palm-donkey  custom  was  prevalent  in  England ;  but 
Mr.  Chambers,  whose  authority  is  greatly  to  be  respected, 
holds  otherwise.  It  may,  by  the  way,  interest  the  reader 
to  know  that  the  bones  of  the  real  Ass  which  was  ridden 
by  Christ  into  Jerusalem  may  yet  be  exhumed  in  Verona. 
For,  according  to  a  legend  of  somewhat  dubious  ancestry, 
the  animal  "  came  ultimately  to  that  city,  died  there,  was 
buried  in  a  wooden  effigy  at  Sta.  Maria  in  Organo,  and 
honoured  by  a  yearly  procession."  Unfortunately  the 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       47 

matter  is  in  dispute,  some  saying  that  this  was  the  ass 
of  one  Silenus.1 

Of  course  this  illustrious  animal  figured  from  earliest 
times  in  representations  of  the  Nativity.  He  stood  in 
primitive  mummery,  rudely  joined  or  carved  or  painted, 
in  company  with  the  ox,  beside  the  manger  of  the  Infant. 
His  role  in  such  a  play  as  the  My s fere  de  la  Nativite 
du  Christ?  of  which  a  thirteenth-century  manuscript  is 
preserved  by  the  Benediktbeuern  monastery  in  Bavaria, 
is  significant  for  its  diverse  possibilities.  The  Ass  makes 
his  entry  with  Balaam,  who  chants  the  words  "A  star 
shall  arise  from  Jacob"  (and  one  may  imagine  that 
here,  as  in  a  certain  Hamburg  play  of  the  Three  Kings, 
the  star  hangs  in  sight  and  the  donkey  discovers  it). 
He  next  has  opportunity  to  assist  at  the  birth  in  the 
stable  in  company  with  Joseph,  who  sits  by  in  habitu 
honesto  et  prolixa  barba.  The  star  again  appearing,  the 
Ass  shifts  to  the  service  of  the  adoring  Magi.  Soon 
afterwards  he  plays  a  plodding  part  in  the  flight  into 
Egypt — prcecedens  Maria  asinum;  and  finally  bears  the 
wonder-working  Child  through  the  realms  of  the  Egyp- 
tian king,  —  idols,  priests,  and  rulers  falling  in  submis- 
sion at  his  approach. 

To  this  Benediktbeuern  Mysfire  de  la  Nativite  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  revert  in  our  consideration  of  still 
another  festival,  that  of  the  Boy  Bishop. 

THE  FEAST  OF  FOOLS 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  in  the  Officia  Cir- 
cumcisioniSy  or  rituals  for  New  Year's  eve  and  New  Year's 
day  of  Beauvais  and  Sens,  provision  was  made  not  only 

1  Chambers,  I,  333.  2  Text  in  Du  Meril,  187. 


48         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

for  the  glorification  of  the  Ass,  but  for  the  exaltation,  in 
burlesque,  of  the  year-long  despised  subdeacons  of  the 
church.  Their  opportunity  came  with  the  transfer  of 
the  precentor's  staff,  or  bacillus,  when  on  the  last  evening 
of  the  Old  Year  the  Magnificat  was  sung :  "  The  mighty 
he  hath  put  down  (deposuit)  from  their  seats,  and  hath 
exalted  those  of  low  degree."  Out  of  this  transfer  grew 
the  Feast  of  Fools,  a  tripudium,  in  its  conception  distinct 
from  that  of  the  Ass,  but  speedily,  and  at  as  early  a 
date,  perhaps,  marked  with  similar  riot.  The  sub- 
deacons  were  an  unconsidered  order,  neither  fish,  flesh, 
nor  fowl,  nor  yet  good  red  herring.  They  were  not  to  be 
ranked  with  priests  and  deacons  of  regular  orders,  nor 
were  they  allowed  the  secular  privileges  of  choir  boys  or 
of  the  laity.  Beletus,1  a  French  ecclesiastic  and  dig- 
nitary, writing  before  1 1 80,  calls  them  incertus  ordo,  and 
says  that  having  no  fixed  and  appropriate  festival,  as 
deacons,  priests,  and  even  choir  boys  had,  they  had  seized 
upon  this  chance  and  were  celebrating  it  officio  confuso,  at 
the  Circumcision,  or  Epiphany  or  the  octave  of  Epiphany. 
That  is  to  say,  on  January  I,  January  6,  or  January  14. 
The  Feast  of  the  Ass  was  the  levelling  of  man  and  brute ; 
the  Feast  of  the  Deposuit  was  the  levelling  of  ecclesiastical 
orders,  soon  of  all  order.  The  "  precentor,"  probably 
the  dominus  festi,  the  lord  of  revels  of  the  year  just  ter- 
minated, hands  over  the  baculus,  the  symbol  of  his  author- 
ity, to  his  newly  elected  successor,  —  representative  of  the 
subdeacons,  lord  of  the  jollification  of  the  incoming  year. 
Immediately  there  takes  place  (as  long  ago  in  the  New 
Year's  feast  of  pagan  Rome)  a  rapturous  topsy-turvy  of 
degrees,  a  reign  of  the  unconsidered.  The  subdeacons, 
howling  — 

1  De  Divin.  Offic.,  Cap.  72,  in  Du  Cange,  /.  v.   Kalend*. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       49 

Novus  annus  hodie 
Monet  nos  laetitias 

Laudes  inchoare, 
Felix  est  principium 
Finem  cujus  gaudium 

Solet  terminate,  — 

and  so  on,  assume  the  vestments  of  their  superiors,  and 
take  the  places  of  the  canons  in  the  stalls. 

This  Novus  annus  hodie,  or  the  well-known  Ltetemur 
gaudiiSy  or  a  similar  chant  for  the  investment  of  the 
lord  of  the  feast  with  the  baculus,  was  used  as  the  Con- 
ductus  ad  Bacularium  ;  and  was,  I  suppose,  the  "  Prose  of 
Fools  "  as  distinguished  from  that  of  the  Ass ;  though 
sometimes  the  Orientis  partibus  is  identified  with  the 
Feast  as  its  proper  prose. 

"  In  France,  at  different  cathedral  churches,"  says 
Hone,  describing  this  upheaval  of  the  undercrust,  "there 
was  a  Bishop  or  an  Archbishop  of  Fools  elected ; 
and  in  the  churches  immediately  dependent  upon  the 
papal  see,  a  Pope  of  Fools.  These  mock  pontiffs  had 
usually  a  proper  suite  of  ecclesiastics,  and  one  of  their 
ridiculous  ceremonies  was  to  shave  the  precentor  of 
Fools  upon  a  stage  erected  before  the  church  in  the 
presence  of  the  populace,  who  were  amused  during  the 
operation  by  his  lewd  and  vulgar  discourses  accompanied 
by  actions  equally  reprehensible.  They  were  mostly 
attired  in  the  ridiculous  dresses  of  pantomime  players  and 
buffoons,  and  so  habited  entered  the  church,  and  per- 
formed the  service  accompanied  by  crowds  of  laity  in 
masks,  representing  monsters,  or  with  their  faces  smutted 
to  excite  fear  or  laughter,  as  occasion  might  require. 
Some  of  them  personated  females  or  panders  or  wander- 
ing actors,  and  practised  wanton  devices.  During  divine 

4 


50        PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

service  they  sang  indecent  songs  in  the  choir,  ate  rich 
puddings  at  the  horn  of  the  alter,  played  at  dice  upon  it 
by  the  side  of  the  'priest'  while  he  celebrated  Mass, 
incensed  it  with  smoke  from  old  burnt  shoes ;  and,  with 
unblushing  effrontery,  ran  leaping  all  over  the  church. 
The  '  Bishop '  or  '  Pope  of  Fools '  performed  the  service 
habited  in  pontifical  garments,  and  gave  his  benediction ; 
when  it  was  concluded  he  was  seated  in  an  open  carriage, 
and  drawn  about  to  different  parts  of  the  town  followed 
by  a  large  train  of  clergy  and  laymen,  and  by  men  stark- 
naked  hauling  carts  laden  with  filth  which  they  threw 
upon  the  populace  that  was  assembled  to  see  the  proces- 
sion. These  licentious  festivities  were  called  the  De- 
cember Liberties.  They  were  always  held  at  Christmas 
time  or  near  to  it,  but  were  not  confined  to  one  particu- 
lar day ;  and  they  seem  to  have  lasted  through  the  chief 
part  of  January." 

This  account,  which  I  have  varied  somewhat  from 
Hone's  by  returning  to  the  original,  is  derived  from  an 
indignant  expostulation  addressed  by  the  Faculty  of  The- 
ology of  the  University  of  Paris  in  the  year  1445  to  the 
prelates  of  the  church  ;  *  and  it  brought  about  something 
of  a  reform,  —  one  of  a  series  of  Augean  purgations,  none 
of  which,  however,  dispensed  with  the  need  of  one  still 
newer  and  more  Herculean.  The  ecclesiastical  history 
of  France  teems  with  remonstrances,  spasmodic  reforms, 
and  relapse.  In  spite  of  inhibition  and  modification  the 
custom  ran  its  course,  joining  hands  by  the  year  1200, 
maybe  earlier,  with  the  orgy  of  the  Ass;  diffusing  its 
amalgamated  bulk  over  half  of  December  and  January, 
drawing  in  its  train  the  erstwhile  sweet  and  stately 
procession  of  the  choir  boys  for  Innocents'  day ;  and, 

1  Du  Cange,  /.  v.    Kalend*. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       51 

blasphemous,  drunken,  often  obscene,  parading  Europe 
and  degrading  its  rituals  till  the  end  of  the  sixteenth, 
nay,  even  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century.  No 
wonder  the  Archbishop  of  Sens,  Louis,  writing  in 
1445,  saYs  tnat  a^  observers  should  tremble  and  blush 
at  the  enormity  of  the  sacrilege  by  which  a  decorous 
and  pleasant  festival  graced  by  the  name  of  our  Lord 
had  been  turned  into  an  obscenity :  a  Festum  fatuorumy 
videlicet  coagulatio  malorum  hominum  exultantium  in  rebus 
pessimis. 

This  feast,  as  I  have  already  said,  was  in  its  origin 
entirely  independent  of  the  jollifications  which  immedi- 
ately attended  Christmas.  The  deacons  had  their  anni- 
versary from  vespers  to  vespers  on  Christmas  day  and 
the  succeeding  day  of  St.  Stephen,  since  Stephen  himself 
was  a  deacon  ;  the  priests  had  theirs  on  the  festival  of  St. 
John  the  Evangelist,  December  27 ;  and  the  choir  boys 
theirs  on  the  commemoration  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Holy 
Innocents,  December  28.1  Thus  from  very  early  times 
the  services  of  the  three  days  after  Christmas  were  the 
seemly  prerogative  of  their  respective  officiants.  From 
the  beginning  of  the  tenth  century  notices  survive  of 
these  observances  with  much  the  same  ecclesiastical  pro- 
cedure as  that  which  marked  the  transfer  of  authority 
in  the  festival  of  the  subdeacons.  But  the  procedure 
of  the  Christmas  tripudia  was  dignified  in  its  incep- 
tion ;  it  anticipated  historically  the  festival  of  subdeacons  ; 
and  it  never  attained,  even  in  its  abuse,  so  infamous 
a  notoriety.  The  latter  celebration,  on  the  other  hand, 
though  it  is  not  noticed  before  1180  or  thereabouts,  had 
even  then  acquired  its  derogatory  sobriquet :  it  is  for 
Beletus  thefestum  subdiaconorum  quod  vocamus  stultorum  ; 
1  Du  Cange,  /.  v.  Kalend<e,  quoting  Beletus,  Cap.  1 20. 


52        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

then  the  "ftstum  fatuorum,  most  accursed  day,  on  which  so 
many  enormities  and  disgraceful  practices  are  wont  to  be 
tolerated."  In  1212  it  is  the  "festum  follorum  when  the 
staff  is  received,"  and  in  1230  the  "  feast  of  the  fatuous 
or  of  the  New  Year's  staff."  By  1222,  and  even  earlier 
at  Sens  and  Beauvais,  we  notice  that  it  has  sucked  into 
its  whirlpool  the  asinaria  ftsta  into  which  the  Procession 
of  the  Prophets  had  lapsed ;  later  we  begin  to  read  of  the 
Feasts  of  Fools  or  of  Asses.  In  1246  at  Nevers  we  find 
that  the  Feast  of  Fools  has  swallowed  also  the  Boy 
Bishop  and  his  festival  of  Innocents'  day;  and  by  1360 
that,  in  Germany,  the  fool-master  of  the  staff  is  lord  of 
asses  and  boy  bishop  as  well.  This  is  at  Mosburg,  where 
one  of  the  New  Year  carols  for  the  scholars'  "bishop" 
begins  — 

Gregis  pastor  Tityrus 
Asinorum  dominus 
Noster  est  episcopus, 
and  ends  — 

Ventremur  Tityrum    • 

£>ui  nos  proptcr  baculum 

In  vitat  ad  fpulum.1 

Similarly  the  festivals  of  St.  Stephen,  St.  John  the 
Evangelist,  Epiphany,  and  the  octave  of  Epiphany, 
even  those  of  earlier  occasion,  —  St.  Catherine's,  St. 
Clement's,  and  St.  Nicholas',  —  were  drawn  into  the 
vortex,  and  shared  the  obloquy  of  the  Feast  of  Fools. 
So  we  meet  with  the  Archbishop  of  Innocents,  alias 
"stultusy"  and  the  Episcopus  fatuus  vel  Innocentiumy  the 
Fool-bishop,  the  Ass-archbishop,  and  other  such  combi- 
nations of  the  original  elements  evendown  to  1645. 

1  See  Chambers,  I,  320,  for  the  whole  song;  and  passim  for  factt 
here  cited. 


INVASION   OF   THE   HUMOROUS       53 

In  England  the  career  of  the  festival  was  not  so  lurid. 
Introduced  in  all  probability  by  Pierre  de  Corbeil  about 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  when  he  was 
coadjutor  of  Lincoln,  it  was  forbidden,  in  1236,  by 
Bishop  Grosseteste  of  that  diocese  as  "  a  vain  and  filthy 
recreation  hateful  to  God  and  dear  to  devils  " ;  and,  in 
1 23  8,  as  "  an  execrable  custom  permitted  in  certain 
churches,  by  which  the  feast  of  the  Circumcision  is 
defiled."1  In  both  cases  the  ceremony  is  specified  by 
name,  festum  stultorum.  It  survived,  however,  until 
1390;  for,  during  his  visitation  of  Lincoln  in  that  year, 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  William  Courteney, 
"  was  credibly  informed  that  vicars  and  clerics  of  that 
church  are  still  by  way  of  disturbing  divine  service  on 
the  day  of  the  Circumcision,  assuming  the  garb  of  lay- 
men, indulging  with  uproar,  and  foolish  harangues  and 
games,  in  what  are  commonly  and  fitly  called  festa 
stultorum"  He  therefore  "forbids  vicars  now,  and  for 
all  time  to  come,  and  all  other  servants  of  the  church,  to 
take  part  in  such  rites  and  in  their  public  drinkings  and 
other  unseemly  practices."2  On  the  margin  of  this 
order,3  in  the  Chapter  Act  Book,  "  a  sarcastic  vicar  has 
written  '  Harrow  barrow !  Here  goes  the  Feast  of 
Fools  (hie  subducitur  festum  stultorum]' '  The  burlesque 
of  the  "  King  of  Fools,"  held  in  Beverley  on  New  Year's 
eve  and  day,  had  disappeared  in  1391,  and  as  a  sop  for 
refraining  from  the  antiqua  consuetude,  the  subdiaconi  et 
clericl  de  secunda  forma  were  allowed  a  special  "  gorge  "  for 
the  occasion. 

1  Grosseteste,  Epistolee :  original  quoted  in  Chambers,  I,  322. 

2  Lincoln  Statutes,  from  original  in  Chambers,  I,  322. 
8  Leach,  in  Furnivall  Miscellany,  p.  222. 


54        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   BOY  BISHOP   AND  THE  ST.  NICHOLAS 

PLAYS 

THE  Benediktbeuern  Mystery  of  the  Nativity,  of  which 
we  spoke  in  connection  with  the  Feast  of  the  Ass,  is 
strangely  comprehensive  of  material,  historical  as  well  as 
dramatic.  It  not  only  presents  us  with  the  pageant  of  the 
prophets,  St.  Augustine,  the  Sibyl,  etc.,  Balaam  and  the 
Ass,  and  the  high  priests  disputing,  with  the  scene  of 
the  Annunciation  and  the  visit  to  Elizabeth,  the  nativity, 
the  star,  the  three  Magi,  Herod  and  the  shepherds, 
devils  and  angels,  the  massacre  of  the  innocents,  and  with 
the  rest  as  already  related ;  it  also  introduces,  for  the 
first  time  as  a  dramatised  personality,  a  character  already 
famous  in  Christmas  ritual,  the  Boy  Bishop,  Episcopus 
Puerorumy  a  character  destined  to  long-lived  popularity 
in  ceremonial,  burlesque,  and  tradition  in  England  and 
on  the  Continent  alike.  In  this  mystery  the  Episcopus 
Puerorum  plays,  indeed,  no  extended  part :  he  rebukes 
the  High  Priest  and  the  Jews  for  their  unbelief  in  the 
miraculous  birth,  and  refers  the  prophets  to  St.  Augus- 
tine for  verification  of  their  predictions ;  l  but  the  man- 
ner of  his  dramatic  appearance  points  to  the  religious 
quality  of  his  origin.  His  character  was  familiar  to  the 
church  from  remote  times.  He  is  the  acknowledged 
leader  of  the  choir  boys  in  their  festivals  of  St.  Nicholas 

1  See  text  in  DuMeril,  p.  191. 


THE   BOY   BISHOP  55 

and  Holy  Innocents.  As  the  earliest  record  of  such 
festivals  Chambers  cites  a  passage  in  which  Ekkehard 
tells  of  the  pleasure  that  King  Conrad  I  had  in  viewing 
the  procession  of  the  choir  boys  on  Innocents'  day  of 
the  year  911,  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Gall :  "  It  would 
be  a  long  story  to  tell  what  pleasures  he  had  by  day  and 
night,  especially  in  the  procession  of  the  children ;  and 
he  was  amazed  at  their  discipline,  for  though  he  had 
ordered  that  apples  should  be  strewn  before  them  down 
the  middle  of  the  aisle,  not  even  the  tiniest  lad  broke 
ranks  or  stretched  his  hand  out  to  get  one."  In  the 
Winchester  troper  of  the  last  part  of  the  tenth  century 
provision  was  made  for  the  participation  of  the  choir 
boys  in  the  services  from  first  to  second  vespers,  and 
mention  is  made  of  their  festivals  by  writers  of  the  two 
centuries  succeeding ;  notably  by  Beletus,  who  says 
that  as  the  deacons  had  their  St.  Stephen's  day,  and  the 
priests  their  day  of  St.  John,  so  to  complete  the  Christ- 
mas triduum,  "  the  choir  boys,  that  is  the  least  of  age 
and  rank,  had  the  festival  of  the  Holy  Innocents  for  a 
tripudium  or  jollification."  From  the  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century  at  York  certain  duties  are  recorded  as 
imposed  upon  the  leader  of  the  boys,  the  Little  Bishop, 
Scholars'  Bishop,  or  Boy  Bishop.  From  the  same  cen- 
tury copies  survive  of  the  service  performed  by  the  Boy 
Bishop  and  his  child  dignitaries  in  French  churches  on 
the  third  day  after  Christmas ;  *  and  from  the  fourteenth 
century  we  have  the  ritual  as  practised  in  Salisbury 
Cathedral.2  There  was  a  Boy  Bishop  there  before  1222, 
and  at  St.  Paul's  before  1225. 

Nothing  can  be  found  of  the  puerile  or  irreverent  in 

1  Texts  in  Du  Cange,  Kalend<e. 
fl  Text  in  Chambers,  II,  p.  282. 


56         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  ceremonies  and  processions  as  first  provided  by 
the  church  for  the  festival  of  Holy  Innocents.  But 
on  the  continent,  and  in  a  much  milder  sense  in  Eng- 
land, abuses  from  without  invaded  the  celebration, — 
turbulence,  disguisings,  profane  plays,  and  mockery  of 
divine  worship.  That  such  should  be  the  case  is  not  at 
all  surprising  when  we  consider  that  similar  ceremonies 
intrusted  to  older  heads  had  speedily  succumbed  to  the 
temptation ;  and  that  the  causa  causans  of  the  Boys' 
"high  jinks"  was  precisely  that  which  underlay  the  jolli- 
fications of  subdeacons,  deacons,  and  priests,  —  a  natural 
reaction  against  the  artificial  restraint  of  the  ecclesiastical 
year.  As  a  whole,  however,  the  reign  of  the  Boy  Bishop 
was  less  obnoxious  to  criticism  than  that  of  the  Lord  of 
Asses  or  the  Abbot  of  Fools ;  and  it  certainly  preserved 
in  England,  France,  and  Germany,  for  a  longer  period 
the  integrity  of  its  original  religious  tradition. 

Though  the  choir  boys  elected  their  Bishop  on  the 
eve  of  St.  Nicholas,  December  5  (probably  the  ancient 
season  of  their  festival),  his  duties  in  most  places  did  not 
begin  till  the  eve  of  Holy  Innocents,  after  the  festivals 
of  deacons  and  priests  were  concluded.  Excellent  ac- 
counts of  the  ceremony  and  the  service  —  which  was  in 
Latin,  of  course  —  are  supplied  by  Du  Cange,  Hone,  and 
Chambers ;  but  since  Mr.  Leach  1  has  dealt  principally 
with  the  English  custom,  I  shall  draw,  in  what  follows, 
upon  him.  At  the  Deposuit  the  bishop  or  dean  or  abbot 
changed  places  with  the  Boy  Bishop ;  and  canons,  arch- 
deacons, and  so  forth,  similarly  exchanged  with  the  corre- 
sponding dignitaries  of  the  boys.  In  the  recessional 
the  Boy  Bishop  came  last,  as  of  highest  dignity,  while 
the  real  dignitaries  were  turned  into  candle-holders, 
4  "  The  Schoolboys'  Feast,"  Fortnightly,  Jan.,  1896. 


A.Monument  to  a  Boy-Bishop 
From  "Ancient  Mysteries  Described' 


THE   BOY   BISHOP  57 

incense-bearers,  and  the  like.  In  the  Salisbury  office, 
there  being  no  altar  of  St.  Nicholas  convenient,  the  Boy 
Bishop  with  his  train  marched  to  the  altar  of  the  Trinity 
and  All  Saints,  and  there  began  the  chant  Centum  quad- 
raginta :  "  One  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  who  were 
redeemed  from  the  earth,  the  first-fruits  of  God  and  the 
Lamb "  (Revelation),  referring  to  the  children  killed  by 
Herod !  Then  followed  the  "  verse "  sung  by  three 
boys :  "  These  were  redeemed  from  all,  because  they 
were  not  defiled  with  women ;  for  they  have  remained 
virgins.  Therefore  they  reign  with  God,  and  the  Lamb 
with  them."  The  Boy  Bishop,  continues  Mr.  Leach, 
like  a  real  bishop  censed  the  altar  and  the  image  of  the 
Saint.  The  Boy  Precentor  began  the  anthem  of  St. 
Mary.  Then  the  Boy  Bishop  took  his  seat,  and  recited 
the  verse,  "  Thou  art  beautiful  in  form  beyond  the  sons 
of  men  (Speciosus  forma  pro  filiis  hominum}\  and  since 
this  verse  was  directed  in  response  by  the  choir  to  him,  it 
called  for  the  requirement  in  the  York  Minster  Statutes 
that  the  Boy  Bishop  was  to  be  the  senior  boy,  "so 
long  as  he  was  sufficiently  good-looking."  Afterwards 
the  Boy  Bishop  blessed  the  people  and  clergy,  and  then, 
being  saluted  as  Prince  of  the  Church,  he  concluded  the 
service  in  the  usual  way.  On  Innocents'  day  all  ser- 
vices, even  the  Mass,  were  conducted  by  him  and  his 
quasi  priests ;  he  even  preached  a  sermon  (which  was, 
of  course,  written  for  him). 

Each  evening  of  the  celebration,  supper  was  provided 
to  the  "  Bishop "  and  his  train  by  the  real  dignitaries. 
There  were  contributions  levied  in  church,  and  by  bands 
which  paraded  the  streets,  the  proceeds  of  which  went  to 
the  "  Bishop."  There  were  dances  at  night,  and  disguis- 
ings,  and  plays,  all  in  the  church.  For  the  next  fortnight 


58        PLAYS   OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  Boy  Bishop,  with  a  staff  composed  of  chaplain, 
steward,  and  choristers,  went  a-horseback,  on  visitation  of 
his  "diocese,"  levying  tribute  (and  no  joke  was  it  either) 
from  the  gentry  and  the  clergy  around.  The  receipts 
for  York  in  1396  came,  according  to  present  values, 
to  $875,  with  two  or  three  gold  rings,  silk  purses,  and 
silver  spoons  to  boot.  After  the  Boy  Bishop  had  en- 
tertained his  schoolfellows  with  all  the  hot  birds  they 
could  eat  and  cold  beer  they  could  drink,  and  paid  his 
other  episcopal  expenses,  he  had  some  $400  left.  Mr. 
Leach,  who  clings  to  the  tradition  discredited  by  many, 
that  the  Eton  "  Montem  "  is  a  relic  of  the  Boy  Epis- 
copate, tells  us  that  in  the  last  years  of  its  existence  it 
used  to  yield  the  "  Captain"  ^1000  gross! 

To  "  bishop  "  it  was  therefore  a  profitable  custom  to 
the  senior  boy,  as  well  as  joyous  for  his  comrades  and 
attractive  to  the  people.  For  the  lads  it  was  the  only 
holiday  of  the  year,  —  actually  so,  since  school  vacations 
were  not  invented  till  the  eighteenth  century,  —  for  the 
people,  an  opportunity  to  behold  the  rising  generation  in 
the  trappings  of  maturity  and  dignity,  or  in  the  perform- 
ance of  more  or  less  amusing  buffoonery.  It  also  afforded 
an  outlet  for  the  play-acting  instinct,  natural  to  the  young 
of  all  species.  And  since  this  festival  was  probably  as 
much  a  festival  of  St.  Nicholas  as  of  the  Holy  Inno- 
cents, some  of  the  numerous  miracles  by  which  the  genial 
Bishop  of  Myra  had  endeared  himself  to  boys  and  girls, 
merchants  and  travellers  and  thieves,  would,  of  course,  be 
presented  by  the  lads,  in  dramatic  form,  within  or  without 
the  church.  For  Nicholas  had  been  the  patron  of  school- 
boys ever  since  that  happy  day  in  the  fourth  century  when 
some  lover  of  marvels  invented  the  story  of  how  the 
bishop  and  saint  had  discovered  in  a  brine-tub  the  bodies 


THE   BOY   BISHOP  59 

of  three  lads  who  on  the  way  to  school  had  been  mur- 
dered by  the  keeper  of  their  inn ;  and  of  how  he  had 
brought  the  bodies  back  to  life  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
they  were  already  cut  into  pieces,  salted,  and  disguised 
as  pickled  pork.  This  was  before  the  day  of  tinned 
meats  ;  but  the  methods  of  the  packing-houses  were,  even 
then,  not  above  suspicion.  The  cleric  who  unearthed 
the  scandal  has  never  lacked  votes  nor  been  able  to 
decline  the  honours  thrust  upon  him.  Guilds  of  St. 
Nicholas,  as  well  as  plays  of  St.  Nicholas  presented  by 
them,  were  rife  in  the  middle  ages.  The  presumption  is 
but  natural  that  the  celebration,  as  well  as  the  election  of 
the  Boy  Bishop  or  "  Nicholas  "  Bishop,  was  formerly  held 
upon  his  day.  At  Winchester  the  Boy  Bishop  was,  in 
1461,  called  Episcopus  Nicholatensis ;  and  of  that  name  the 
Eton  Episcopus  Nihilensis,  or  Bishop  of  Nothing,  of  a 
century  later,  would  appear  to  be  merely  a  humorous 
corruption.  As  time  passed,  however,  the  authorities 
in  most  places  found  it  convenient  to  amalgamate  the 
festivities  of  St.  Nicholas  and  the  Holy  Innocents ;  and 
hence  the  election  on  the  former  day  of  the  boy  who 
should  officiate  as  Bishop  on  the  latter.  A  Boy  Bishop 
of  such  function  and  prerogative  was  elected  not  only  in 
the  choir-schools  attached  to  cathedrals  and  important 
churches,  but  in  secular  schools,  and  in  choirs  connected 
with  parish  churches  as  well ;  and  wherever  church  or 
school  was  associated  with  St.  Nicholas  the  name  "  Nich- 
olas Bishop  "  was  likely  to  be  preferred. 

Turning  to  France,1  we  find  that  at  Rouen  the  service- 
book  for  the  day  was  practically  the  same  as  that  already 
cited  from  Salisbury.     At  Toul,  the  provisions  for  the 
attendant  ceremonial  seem  to  have  been  somewhat  more 
1  Du  Cange,  Kalendee. 


60        PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

elaborate,  and  explicit  mention  is  made  of  the  presenta- 
tion of  plays.  It  is  also  significant  that  here  the  election 
of  the  Boy  Bishop  for  the  coming  Holy  Innocents'  was 
made  as  early  as  the  first  Sunday  in  Advent;  that  is,  just 
before  St.  Nicholas'  day.  The  subdeacons,  according  to 
the  Statutes  of  1497,  assist  in  the  election,  and  with  the 
other  "Innocents,"  singing  Te  Deum  laudamus  and  ringing 
bells,  they  conduct  the  Bishop-elect  to  the  cathedra 
behind  the  altar  of  the  Virgin  and  there  enthrone  him. 
On  Innocents'  day  he  performs  the  usual  services  and,  in 
addition,  riding  to  the  monasteries  of  the  town,  offers 
prayer  and  receives  from  each  a  fee  of  eighteen  denarii  for 
its  equivalent.  The  canons  of  the  cathedral  must  year 
by  year,  according  to  seniority,  defray  the  expenses  of  a 
supper,  and  provide  the  "  bishop "  with  horse,  gloves 
(chirotecis\  and  biretta.  If  the  canon  of  the  year,  he 
upon  whom  the  "  bishop  "  of  the  year  previous  has  be- 
stowed the  customary  pileum  romarini  (rosemary  cap)  as 
the  symbol  of  his  appointment,  fails  in  the  performance 
of  his  duties,  personally  or  by  substitute,  the  boys  and 
subdeacons  are  authorised  to  erect  a  scarecrow  in  the 
middle  of  the  choir,  a  black  cope  over  a  rake  (raustro  for 
rastro\  in  mockery  of  him,  to  remain  there  at  their 
pleasure.  And  until  the  offender  makes  amends  for  his 
contempt  of  the  choir  he  is  cut  off  from  all  ecclesias- 
tical emoluments.  After  vespers  of  Innocents'  day  the 
Episcopus  Innocentium  marches  with  his  posse  through 
the  streets,  accompanied  by  mimes  and  trumpets.  On  the 
octave  of  the  Innocents  a  similar  march  is  had  to  the  church 
of  St.  Genevieve,  with  service  consisting  of  her  antiphon 
and  collect.  Afterwards  the  company  is  entertained,  at  the 
hospital  attached  to  the  church,  with  cake,  apples,  nuts, 
etc. ;  and  officers  are  appointed  to  collect  all  fines  for 


THE   ST.   NICHOLAS   PLAYS  61 

violations  of  discipline  in  connection  with  the  perform- 
ance of  divine  service,  during  the  ensuing  year,  and  to 
apply  them  to  the  defrayal  of  the  expenses  of  the  next 
great  dinner  on  the  day  after  Innocents'.  On  that  same 
day  every  year  plays  were  furnished,  if  the  weather  per- 
mitted :  moralities  or  miracles  or  farces,  and  like  amuse- 
ments, —  but  they  had  always  to  be  decent  (omnia  cum 
hone  state). 

PLAYS  OF  HOLY  INNOCENTS  AND  ST.  NICHOLAS 

Of  these  representations  the  subjects  would  inevitably 
be  suggested  by  the  occasion :  hence  undoubtedly  the 
numerous  notices  still  preserved,  even  outside  of  the 
great  cycles,  of  plays  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  or, 
as  it  is  sometimes  phrased,  of  the  Children  of  Israel  (Ludus 
Filiorum  Israel).  We  read  of  one  at  Cambridge,  and 
another  at  Constance,  at  an  early  date.  They  were  both, 
in  all  probability,  acted  by  youths.  Plays  of  St.  Nicholas 
could  readily  be  adapted  to  suit  the  festival  of  the 
Innocents,  since  intervention  on  behalf  of  the  young  was 
the  characteristic  role  of  the  saint.  His  miracles  would 
grace  either  feast.  That  they  graced  his  own,  we  know. 
In  the  Fleury  manuscript  of  the  thirteenth  century  four 
such  plays  exist;  and  in  one  of  them,  which  may  be 
called  Kidnapped,  a  character  explicitly  informs  us  that 
"to-morrow  will  be  St.  Nicholas'  day,  whom  all  Chris- 
tians should  devoutly  cherish,  venerate,  and  bless,  In 
crastino  erit  festivitas  Nicolai." 

The  bare  outline  of  the  miracle  itself  is  given  in  Vora- 
gine's  legend  of  the  saint :  the  Fleury  play  elaborates 
it  prettily.1  Little  Deodatus  accompanies  his  parents 

i  Du  Meril,  Orig.  Lot.  du  Theatre,  276. 


62        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

to  the  church  of  St.  Nicholas,  whose  festival  the  father, 
Getron,  was  wont  annually  to  celebrate.  During  the 
service  the  worshippers  are  attacked  by  the  soldiers  of  a 
predatory  king.  Deodatus,  separated  from  his  parents, 
is  carried  off  by  the  soldiers,  and  becomes  cupbearer 
to  the  king.  His  majesty,  Marmorinus,  is,  of  course, 
a  pagan,  a  worshipper  of  Apollo ;  and  finding  that  the 
little  cupbearer  still  trusts  for  rescue  to  the  God  of  the 
Christians,  he  ridicules  his  prayers.  By  a  shift  of  scene 
we  are  recalled  to  the  parents.  They  search  for  the 
child  in  vain.  Euphrosyne,  the  mother,  bewails  her 
evil  fortune.  Her  attendant  women,  striving  to  console 
her,  urge  her  to  appeal  to  God  and  his  dearly  beloved, 
Nicholas.  She  does  so.  A  year  passes,  and,  with  her 
husband,  she  arranges  for  a  special  feast  in  honour  of  the 
saint.  On  the  day  of  the  festival  the  parents  and  their 
friends  are  seated  at  table.  Meanwhile,  in  his  far  distant 
palace,  Marmorinus  too  is  feasting  in  his  pagan  way. 
The  little  Deodatus,  summoned  to  serve  the  king,  sighs 
heavily,  remembering  that  just  one  year  ago  he  was  torn 
from  his  father  and  mother.  The  king  upbraids  him ; 
tears  are  useless ;  there  is  no  rescue  so  long  as  he  desires 
to  hold  him  there.  Then  enters  One  in  the  likeness  of 
St.  Nicholas  and  whisks  away  the  little  cupbearer  with 
his  cup  of  spiced  wine  in  his  hand  (scyphum  cum  recentario 
vino  tenentem),  and  setting  him  down  outside  his  father's 
house,  mysteriously  disappears.  "  Lad,  whither  away," 
says  a  citizen  passing  by,  "and  who  gave  thee  that  gor- 
geous cup  all  filled  with  wine  ? "  "  This  is  whither- 
away,"  replies  the  lad,  "  and  no  farther  do  I  go.  Praise 
and  glory  to  St.  Nicholas,  who  hath  restored  me."  Out 
from  the  table  spread  with  bread  and  wine  that  clerks 
and  paupers  might  refresh  themselves,  runs  the  mother 


THE   ST.  NICHOLAS   PLAYS  63 

to  her   child,  and    hugs  him  and   kisses  —  quern  s<epius 
deosculatum  amplexetur  —  and  returns  thanks, — 

Sintque  patri  nostro  perpetu* 
Nicolao  laudes  et  gratia, 
Cujus  erga  Deum  oratio 
Nos  adjuvit  in  hoc  negotio  I 

And  all  the  choir  responds  with  the  chant 

Copios<e  caritatis 
Nicolae  pontifex,  etc. 

This  play  was  intended  for  performance  by  boys.  And 
one  may  assume  that  the  miracle  of  the  Three  Schoolboys 
restored  to  life  by  St.  Nicholas,  and  that  of  the  Three  Fam- 
ished Girls  saved  from  lives  of  shame,  and  that  of  the 
Barbarian,  or  travelling  Jew,  contained  in  the  same  manu- 
script collection,1  were  intended  for  similar  production 
on  the  festival  of  Santa  Claus.  These,  like  that  which 
has  preceded,  are  wholly  in  Latin,  and  of  the  simplest 
kind,  such  as  youngsters  could  commit  to  memory  with 
no  feeling  of  resentment  toward  the  charitable  saint. 
Of  the  miracles  of  St.  Nicholas  the  most  amusing,  how- 
ever, is  not  all  in  Latin,  but  partly  in  French.  It  is 
ascribed  to  that  Hilarius  who,  as  we  have  already  said, 
was  probably  an  Anglo-Norman.  He  was  of  the  twelfth 
century,  and,  like  other  cultivated  ecclesiastics  and  school- 
masters of  his  day,  he  frequently  journeyed  to  and  fro 
across  the  Straits  of  Dover.  His  play  is  well  known  :  a 
Barbarian  (it  is  from  another  play  that  we  learn  his  na- 
tionality) who  is  setting  forth  on  business  entrusts  his 
treasure  to  the  keeping  of  a  shrine  of  St.  Nicholas,  order- 
ing the  saint,  somewhat  cavalierly  one  might  say,  to  see 
to  it  that  there  shall  be  no  cause  for  complaint  upon 

1  All  in  Du  Meril. 


64         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

his  return.  As  soon  as  the  foreigner  is  out  of  sight, 
tramps,  fures  transeuntes,  make  off  with  the  booty. 
"  Hard  luck,"  cries  Barbarus,  who  had  merely  stepped 
round  the  corner  — 

Gravis  sors  ft  dura  ! 
Hie  reliqui  plura, 
Sed  sub  mala  cur  a : 

Des  I  quel  damage  / 
£>ui  pert  la  sue  chose,  purque  if  enrage  ? 

"  I  do  well  to  be  angry.  I  left  more  than  a  hundred 
things  in  charge  of  this  thief  of  a  saint.  Ha,  Nicholax, 
if  you  don't  disgorge  my  chose,  you  '11  catch  it."  Then  up 
with  his  whip  — 

By  God,  I  swear  to  you 
Unless  you  "  cough  up"  true, 
You  thief,  I  '11  beat  you  blue, 

I  will,  no  fear ! 
So  hand  me  back  my  stuff  that  I  put  here! 

Then  St.  Nicholas  shall  go  to  the  robbers  and  say  to  them : 
"  Ye  wretches,  what  would  you  ?  When  you  stole  the 
treasure  committed  to  my  care,  was  not  I  beholding  you  ? 
Now  I  have  taken  a  thrashing  for  them,  and  my  credit 
is  no  longer  worth  a  denier.  Out  with  the  stolen  goods 
at  once : 

And  if  you  don't  do  as  I  say, 

I  '11  see  you  both  hanged  in  a  day 

On  the  cross  in  the  square : 
Your  filching,  and  fobbing,  and  face, 
Your  scandalous  deeds  of  disgrace 

I  '11  tell  to  the  populace,  —  there !  " 

The  robbers,  fearful,  bring  back  the  goods,  which  when 
he  finds,  Barbarus  in  alternate  gasps  of  Latin  and  un- 
digested French  exclaims, — 


St.  Nicholas  and  the  Schoolboys 
From  "Ancient  Mysteries  Described" 


THE   ST.  NICHOLAS   PLAYS  65 

Unless  my  sight  deceives  me 

I  Ve  got  'em  now  ; 
I  don't  care  who  believes  me, 

'T  is  marvel  still,  I  vow,  — 

or  words  to  that  effect.  He  then  approaches  the  image 
of  St.  Nicholas,  and  gives  thanks  : 

Supplex  ad  te  venio 

Nicholax  ; 
Nam  •per  te  recipio 
Tut  icei  que  tu  gardas  ; 

and  more.  Beatus  NicholauSj  appearing  then,  bids  him 
give  thanks  to  God  alone.  And  the  Barbarian  repents 
of  his  sins  and  becomes  a  Christian,  instanter,  believing 
that  God  Almighty,  whose  kingdom  is  without  end,  will 
blot  out  his  iniquity. 

Other  such  miracles  there  are :  none  in  English,  how- 
ever. But  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  that  they  did  not 
abound  in  the  libraries  of  choir-masters  and  classical: 
schools.  The  Golden  Legend  alone  furnishes  subjects  for 
a  dozen  or  two  of  the  children's  saint,  beginning  eveni 
with  the  antedental  and  predisponent  events  of  his  most 
continent  life,  —  "  Then  the  first  day  that  he  was  washed 
and  bained,  he  addressed  him,"  says  the  Legend,  "  right  up 
in  the  bason,  and  he  would  not  take  the  breast  nor  the 
pap  but  once  on  the  Wednesday,  and  once  on  the  Friday, 
and  in  his  young  age  he  eschewed  the  plays  and  japes  of 
other  children,"  —  which  undoubtedly  accounts  for  his 
accumulated,  adult  sympathy  with  the  nonsense  of  eternal 
youth. 

In  1541  a  proclamation  of  Henry  VIII  forbade  the 
gathering  of  children  for  festivals  of  St.  Nicholas,  Holy 
Innocents,  St.  Catherine,  St.  Clement,  and  the  like,  where 

5 


66         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

boys  dressed  themselves  up  to  counterfeit  bishops,  priests, 
women,  and   others  of  mature  years.     And  from  that 
time  on,  save  for  a  space  under  Queen  Mary,  the  festivals 
waned  in  importance  and  distinction.     Still,  as  late  as  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  there  are  traces  in 
England  of  a  "license"   on   Innocents'  day,  by  which 
children  are  allowed  to  play  in  the  churches.     On  the 
continent  we  hear  of  a  Bishop  of  Fools  or  of  Innocents, 
until  1585,  at  Aix.     And  in  1645,  at  Antibes,  Innocents' 
day  was  celebrated  not  by  boys,  but  by  Franciscans,  in 
the  old-fashioned  riotous  manner,  with  exchange  of  status 
between  clergy  and  laymen,  and  of  garments,  —  the  sacer- 
dotal vestments  being  turned  inside  out ;  with  censing  by 
ashes   and  with   all    the   other   topsy-turvydom   of  the 
Fools'  Feast  in  the  middle  ages.1     This  is  an  absorption 
of  the  children's  festival  by  that  of  the  grown-up  Fools. 
But  whether  independently  or   in  connection  with    the 
Feast  of  Fools  or  that  of  Asses,  it  persists  till  the  six- 
teenth   century   in  at  least  a  dozen  cathedral  towns  of 
France.     Mr.  Chambers  cites  cases,  indeed,  of  its  con- 
tinuance as  late  as  the  eighteenth  century,  —  one  at  Lyons, 
another  at  Rheims ;  and  he  quotes  from  Cherest,2  that 
even  in  the  nineteenth  at  Sens,  the  choir  boys  still  play 
at  being  bishops  on  Innocents'  day, and  name  the  "arch- 
bishop "  fine.     Odd  that  the  latest  survival  should  be  in 
the  cathedral  from  which  we  derive  the  earliest  complete 
ritual  of  the  Asses '  Feast. 

THE  GIRL  ABBESS  AND  THE  NUNS'  PLAYS 

If  subdeacons  and  choir  boys,  not  to  speak  of  orders 
more  elevated,  had  their  annual  excursions  into  joy,  why 

1  Hone,  from  Thiers,  Traiti  des  Jeux,  p.  449. 
*  Fete  des  Innocents,  etc.,  p.  81. 


THE   ST.  NICHOLAS   PLAYS  67 

not  the  cloistered  nuns  as  well  ?  Their  devotions,  fasts, 
and  penances  were  even  more  monotonous  and  severe 
than  those  of  subdeacons  and  choir  boys ;  and  they  were 
but  human  after  all.  Not  only  could  Chaucer's  Madame 
Eglentyne  entune  the  service  in  her  nose  full  seemly,  she 
could  also  smile  and  swear  genteelly,  and  speak  a  certain 
Anglo-French,  and  bear  herself  daintily  at  meat,  and 
counterfeit  the  cheer  of  court,  and  wear  with  grace  her 
corals  and  her  brooch  : 

And  sikerly  she  was  of  great  disport 
And  ful  pleasaunt,  and  amiable  of  port. 

Like  Prioress,  like  novice,  and  like  nun.  And  so  we 
rejoice  in  that  notice  of  Du  Cange,1  which  informs  us  that 
the  Fes  turn  B.  M.  Magdalen*  was  celebrated  ludibriis 
atque  ineptiisy  with  "  revels  and  tomfoolery,"  among  the 
year-long  quiet  little  nuns,  the  moniales,  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Kalends  among  the  clerics.  And  we  entertain  the 
somewhat  sacrilegious  hope  that  the  fulmination,  in  1245, 
of  Archbishop  Odo  of  Rouen  against  some  of  his  ob- 
streperous convents,  was  not  too  efficacious  in  the  event. 
"Item,"  says  he,  "We  forbid  you  in  future  to  practise 
the  usual  follies  on  the  festivals  of  Holy  Innocents  and 
St.  Mary  Magdalene ;  we  mean,  dressing  yourselves  up 
in  the  garments  of  seculars,  and  indulging  in  dances 
(choreas  ducendo]  either  among  yourselves  or  with  out- 
siders." I  have  my  doubts  whether  the  little  nuns  of 
Villars,  for  instance,  were  tripping  it  with  wantonness 
other  than  that  of  youthful  exuberance,  or  at  any  time 
with  persons  of  the  other  sex.  The  chores,  aforesaid, 
were  more  probably  stately  evolutions  in  some  presenta- 
tion, by  song  and  acting,  of  sacred  history :  perhaps  the 

1  Under  Fest.  Magd.  and  Kalenda. 


68        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

spectacle  of  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  or  the 
aureate  history  of  the  Magdalene.  Hence  the  assumption 
of  unconventual  garb  and  the  co-operation  of  lay-folk. 
But  again  the  moniales  of  the  nunnery  of  Villars  are 
warned  by  the  archbishop  that  the  songs  in  which  they 
indulge  on  the  festivals  of  St.  John  and  the  Innocents 
are  scurrilous,  and  their  jocosity  too  great,  extending  to 
farces,  burlesque  chants  (conductis)  like  the  Prose  of  the 
Ass,  and  what  Mr.  Leach  translates  "frivolous  motets" 
(motulis).  And  they  are  ordered  to  behave  "  more 
decorously  and  more  devoutly  in  the  future."  Perhaps 
the  rigorous  Odo  was  justified  after  all.  Those  "  motets  " 
have  a  suspicious  flavour  :  they  remind  us  of  the  crackers 
and  fools'  caps  of  Christmas  to-day, —  with  their  versicles 
of  perilous  rhyme  !  But  a  nun  's  a  woman  for  a'  that 
And  in  England,  even,  it  seems  that  a  slip  of  a  convent- 
girl  would  seize  her  chance  to  be  natural  at  least  once  a 
year.  In  1275  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  writes  to 
the  Abbess  of  Godstow  that  she  must  not  suffer  in  her 
nunnery  what  was  elsewhere  permitted,  viz.  that  on 
Innocents'  day  the  girls  should  conduct  the  divine 
service.1  There  were,  indeed  as  late  as  1526,  "  Girl 
Abbesses  "  in  England,  corresponding  to  the  Boy  Bishops ; 
for  in  that  year  a  Christmas  "  abbess  "  was  elected  at  the 
nunnery  of  Carrow.  In  France  the  election  of  a  Girl 
Abbess  on  St.  Catherine's  and  Holy  Innocents'  still 
obtained,  at  the  Abbaye  aux  Bois,  Faubourg  St.  Germain, 
as  late  as  1773.*  The  celebration  of  the  Christmas 
triduum  would  naturally  lead  the  women,  when  celebrating 
it,  to  an  imitation  of  the  excesses  of  deacons,  priests,  and 
choir  boys ;  so  also  their  celebration  of  the  day  assigned 

1  Leach,  Fortnightly,  Jan.,  1 896. 
*  Chambers,  I,  362. 


THE   ST.  NICHOLAS   PLAYS  69 

to  subdeacons,  New  Year's  or  Twelfth  Day  or  St. 
Hilary's  —  which  passed  into  the  Feast  of  Fools.  It 
was  inevitable  that  they  should  make  of  the  Feast  of  St. 
Catherine,  November  25,  or  of  Mary  Magdalene,  July 
22,  a  festival  peculiar  to  themselves,  with  adaptations  of 
the  tripudies  of  their  ecclesiastical  brothers. 


7o        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  V 

SECULAR   BY-PRODUCTS  IN   SATIRE   AND 
WONDER 

SOTTIE  AND  FARCE 

OF  the  outcome  of  the  ecclesiastical  burlesques  in  social 
and  literary  life  a  few  words  only  can  be  said  here.  The 
subject  has  been  fascinatingly  discussed  by  Herford, 
Julleville,  Chambers,  and  others.  Nobody  has  yet  ex- 
hausted it. 

To  the  ecclesiastical  ceremonials  of  Asses,  Fools,  and 
Boy  Bishops  we  owe  the  founding  of  certain  secular 
societies  which  prosecuted  the  exposure  of  folly  with 
such  success  as  to  make  its  various  shades  and  degrees 
the  object  of  widespread  consideration  in  the  later  middle 
ages ;  and  to  these  societies  is  most  emphatically  due  the 
development,  at  that  time,  of  certain  typical  characters 
prominent  in  literature,  dramatic  and  satirical.  Concern- 
ing the  extent  to  which  the  familiar  figure  of  court  fool 
and  of  the  fool  of  the  Elizabethan  stage  was  influenced 
by  these  by-products  of  the  church  service  it  would  be 
unsafe  to  hazard  a  guess :  the  question  is  sub  judicey  and 
is  likely  to  remain  there  for  some  time  yet.  But  that 
the  joyous  monologues  of  a  Launcelot  Gobbo,  or  of  the 
Adam  of  the  Looking-Glass,  and  the  Coomes  of  Porter's 
Two  Angry  Women,  derive,  though  unconsciously,  from 
the  sermons  joyeux  of  the  later  "  society  of  fools  "  I  have 
no  doubt 


SECULAR   BY-PRODUCTS   IN   SATIRE    71 

Petit  de  Julleville  *  tells  us  that  "  if  there  is  any  kind 
of  comedy  whose  origin  is  to  be  sought  in  the  burlesque 
solemnities  of  the  church  it  is  the  sottie.  The  sots  are 
the  celebrants  of  the  Feast  of  Fools  after  they  have  been 
ejected  from  the  church  and  have  reorganised  themselves 
in  the  public  place  to  continue  the  festival.  The  confrerie 
of  the  sots  is  the  Feast  of  Fools  secularised.  For  the  par- 
ody of  hierarchy  and  ecclesiastical  liturgy  they  substitute 
the  parody  of  all  society."  They  founded  all  over 
France,  and  elsewhere,  a  number  of  societes  joyeuses :  for 
instance,  the  Enfants  sans  souci  of  Paris,  with  their  officials, 
the  Prince  des  Sots  and  the  Mother-Sot;  the  Connards 
or  Cornards  of  Dijon,  and  so  on.  They  also  founded 
societies  of  clerks  of  the  Basoche,  law-clerks  attached 
to  some  one  or  other  of  the  municipal  parliaments. 
These  societies  were  both  fraternal  and  dramatic.  Their 
dramatic  function  had  the  twofold  aim  of  amusement 
and  satire.  Their  satires  in  dramatic  form,  or  softies, 
ridiculed  life  political,  social,  religious,  municipal,  intellec- 
tual, carnal,  —  everything  under  the  sun  :  sometimes 
grossly1;  sometimes  with  wit  and  moral  force,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  Gens  Nouveaux,  where  the  pretensions  of  the  young 
to  revolutionise  the  civil  polity  are  reduced  to  an  absurdity; 
or  as  in  the  Prince  des  Sots  of  Gringore,  where  the  simony 
of  Pope  Julius  II  is  scourged.  To  the  diffusion  of 
softies  throughout  Europe  one  may  readily  trace  the  crop 
of  fool-literature  that  succeeded.  Hence,  therefore,  in 
large  part,  if  not  entirely,  proceed  the  Ship  of  Fools,  the 
Mirror  of  Fools,  and  all  such  masterpieces  of  the  Wir- 
ekers,  Brandts,  and  Barclays,  —  hence  also  the  Hicks- 
corners  and  similar  dramatic  interludes,  more  satiric  and 
amusing  than  moral  and  didactic. 

1  Le  Theatre  en  France,  p.  61. 


72        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Another  style  of  literary  effort  cultivated  by  these 
successors  of  Fool  Abbots  and  Boy  Bishops  was  the 
sermon  joyeuxt  or  merry  monologue.  This,  says  Julleville, 
is  born  in  the  Feast  of  Fools.  He  who  first,  in  the 
debauch  of  the  festival,  thought  of  mounting  the  pulpit 
and  with  a  bacchanalian  impromptu  making  a  parody  of 
the  preacher,  delivered  the  first  sermon  joyeux.  Later  the 
buffoon-preacher,  ejepted  from  the  Church,  took  refuge 
in  the  theatre,  and  continued  to  parody  there  with  im- 
punity the  religious  discourse.  He  retained  the  text 
taken  from  scripture,  but  twisted  its  meaning,  discussed 
it  under  sophistical  headings,  and  mimicked  shrewdly 
the  fashion  of  the  scholastic  chair.  To  this  monologue 
we  may  trace,  as  I  have  said,  the  dramatic  lineage  of 
many  a  fool's  soliloquy  of  the  Elizabethan  stage :  the 
mock  wisdom  and  the  sapient  nonsense  of  Touchstones, 
Mileses,  Slippers,  and  that  ilk.  Such  monologues  are, 
indeed,  the  distant  source  in  history  of  the  "  stunts  " 
nowadays  to  be  heard  on  the  vaudeville  stage, —  side- 
splitting when  not  heart-breaking. 

From  the  softies  of  the  Care-free  Children  of  France 
and  the  farces  of  the  clercs  de  la  Basoche,  such  as  the 
immortal  Maltre  Pathelin  and  Fernet  who  Goes  to  the 
Wmey  the  merry  interludes  of  the  English  Heywood  and 
Rastell  undoubtedly  drew,  at  times,  inspiration,  charac- 
ter, and  incident.  And  similarly  the  "  witty  dialogues  "  of 
England  in  the  early  sixteenth  century  availed  themselves 
of  the  d'ebats  and  disputations  of  the  preceding  century  in 
France.1 

ENGLISH  REVELS  OF  MISRULE 

Orders  of  fools,  somewhat  after  the  French  fashion, 
exist  not  only  in  the  satiric  and  dramatic  literature  of 
1  See  Pollard's  "John  Heywood"  in  Rep.  Engl.  Com.,  pp.  3-16. 


SECULAR   BY-PRODUCTS   IN   SATIRE     73 

England  during  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  but 
in  society  from  a  date  earlier  still.  Mr.  Chambers  quotes 
from  the  register  of  Bishop  Grandison  "  under  the  date 
July  u,  1348,  a  mandate  to  the  archdeacon  and  dean  of 
Exeter  and  the  rector  of  St.  Paul's,  requiring  them  to 
prohibit  the  proceedings  of  a  certain  t  sect  of  malign 
men '  who  call  themselves  the  '  Order  of  Brothelyng- 
ham.'  These  men,"  says  the  bishop,  "wear a  monkish 
habit,  choose  a  lunatic  fellow  as  abbot,  set  him  up  in  the 
theatre,  blow  horns,  and  for  day  after  day,  beset  in  a 
great  company  the  streets  and  places  of  the  city,  captur- 
ing laity  and  clergy,  and  exacting  ransom  from  them '  in 
lieu  of  sacrifice.'  This  they  call  a  Indus ,  but  it  is  sheer 
rapine."  Christmas  maskings  and  mummings  were  com- 
mon with  court  and  guild  from  the  latter  half  of  the  four- 
teenth century  down,  not  without  the  grotesque  garbing 
of  fools,  the  local  satire  and  the  riot  that  characterised 
thejeux  des  fous  across  the  channel.  "  Lords  of  Misrule  " 
who  are  manifest  kin  to  the  Prince  des  Sots  and  like  him 
descended  from  the  dominus,  the  mock  abbot  or  bishop 
or  pope  of  the  old  subdeacons*  feast,  were  regularly  ap- 
pointed for  Christmas  revels  at  court  in  the  reigns  of 
Henry  VII,  Henry  VIII,  and  Edward  VI.  During  the 
same  period  at  the  Universities,  the  yearly  season  of 
feasting  and  games  was  ruled  by  a  Lord  of  Misrule  — 
whether  under  the  designation  of  King  of  Beans  or 
Christmas  Lord,  Prince  of  the  Revels  or  King  of  the 
Feast  of  the  Nativity.  And  at  the  Inns  of  Court  he 
persists  as  King  of  Cockneys,  Lieutenant,  or  Prince  of 
Purpoole,  well  into  the  seventeenth  century.  It  was  on 
one  of  these  revels  of  Innocents'  day,  when  Mr.  Henry 
Helmes  of  Norfolk  was  Prince  of  Purpoole  at  Gray's 
Inn,  that  "a  company  of  base  and  common  fellows  was" 


74        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

brought  in  and  performed  "a  Comedy  of  Errors  like  to  Plau- 
tus  his  Men*chmus." l  These  revels  of  the  town  and  col- 
lege appear  to  be  reflected  in  the  mummers'  plays  of  the 
common  folk,  though  the  latter  are  of  much  earlier  and 
more  distinctly  pagan  origin.  Or  was  it  the  folk-festival 
that  had  affected  the  revels  of  the  cultured  class  ?  Was 
there  a  connection,  for  instance,  between  the  "  Lord  of 
Pool,"  whose  name  the  Pickle  Herring  of  the  Revesby 
Plow  Boys'  play  assumes,  and  this  "  Prince  of  Purpoole  " 
of  Christmastide  in  Gray's  Inn? 

The  reign  of  the  "  Abbot  of  Bon  Accord  "  in  Aberdeen 
is  parallel  to  that  of  the  English  Lords  of  Misrule. 
Sometimes  he  is  called  "  Abbot  of  Unreason  ; "  and  from 
1440  to  1565  he  dominates  the  Haliblude  plays  of 
Christmastide,  or  rides  with  Robin  Hood  and  Little 
John  in  honour  of  the  Queen  of  May.  So  elsewhere  in 
the  Scotland  of  the  sixteenth  century,  —  at  Linlithgow 
and  Leith.  Every  lover  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  in  mind 
the  revels  of  Father  Howleglas,  the  learned  Monk  of 
Misrule  and  Right  Reverend  Abbot  of  Unreason,  at 
St.  Mary's  of  Kennequhair,  with  St.  George  and  the 
dragon  and  the  lovely  Sabaea,  Robin  Hood  and  Little 
John  and  hobby-horse,  and  the  whole  rout  of  mad  gro- 
tesque mummers ;  and  how  Roland  Graeme  struck  his 
poniard  into  the  sawdust  paunch  of  the  irreverent  ruler 
of  the  feast. 

Of  this  kind  of  foolery  we  find  little  recorded  evidence 
in  the  miracle  plays,  even  when  they  have  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  laity  ;  but  the  spirit  of  the  nonsense  peeps 
between  the  lines  in  the  Chester  foolery  of  the  "  Boye 
and  the  Pigge  when  the  kinges  are  gone,"  the  "cast- 
ing up"  of  staff  and  sword,  and  the  bombast  of  Herod  ; 
1  Chambers,  I,  417. 


SECULAR  BY-PRODUCTS   IN  WONDER  75 

in  the  unwritten  rubrics  of  Noah's  recalcitrant  wife,  and 
of  Balaam  and  his  Ass;  in  the  comic  interludes  of  the 
shepherds,  Trowle  and  Mak,  and  of  the  ale-wife  whom 
even  Christ  would  not  harrow  out  of  hell ;  in  the  vain- 
glorious Watkyn  of  the  Massacre  play  and  in  all  that 
ebullition  of  the  boisterous  which  attended  the  amateur 
performance  of  scriptural  plays,  no  matter  how  sacred  in 
their  inception. 

THE  MIRACLES  DE  NOSTRE  DAME 

In  France,  the  burlesque  of  ecclesiastical  festivals  re- 
sulted in  the  literature  of  crude  comedy  and  satire  of  which 
I  have  spoken.  The  secularisation  of  saints'  plays  pro- 
duced during  the  fourteenth  century  a  species  of  dramatic 
literature  of  which  no  counterpart  ever  existed  in  England. 
I  refer  to  the  Miracles  de  Nostre  Dame.1  Of  these  Mary- 
plays  an  immense  Corpus  still  exists,  —  the  mummy  of  a 
mediaeval  Frankenstein.  They  are  the  offspring  of  imag- 
ination unrestrained  and  vulgar,  superstitious  beyond  the 
wildest  nightmare  of  paganism,  mystical,  sombre,  roman- 
tic, disgusting,  tormented,  begotten  of  priestcraft  upon 
ignorance.  Still,  though  abhorrent  to  the  religious  senti- 
ment of  any  age,  they  are  priceless  as  the  pathetic  self- 
revelation  of  a  perverted  spirituality,  as  the  record  of  an 
aspect  of  aesthetic  and  religious  consciousness  no  less 
morbid  than  the  contemporary  ideals  of  the  true  sons  of 
the  Church  were  sane,  elevated,  and  beautiful.  To  the 
historian  of  social  phenomena  the  collection  is  an  inex- 
haustible museum ;  and  to  the  psychologist  and  the  lit- 
erary investigator  a  palace  of  surprises  and  of  somewhat 
surreptitious  delight. 

1  Ed.  Gaston  Paris  et  Ulysse  Robert,  for  the  Societe  des  Anciens 
Textes  Francois,  7  vols.  Paris,  1876-1893.  From  a  manuscript  of  the 
early  fifteenth  century. 


76        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

These  Mary-plays  were,  as  I  have  said,  a  product  of 
the  secularisation  of  the  saints'  plays.  To  what  degree 
of  elaboration,  both  heroic  and  farcical,  a  miracle  of 
St  Nicholas  might  be  carried  had  been  shown  already 
in  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  by  a  poet  of 
Arras,  Jean  Bodel  by  name.  Departing  from  the  ordi- 
nary run  of  miracles  attributed  to  the  saint,  he  invented 
an  episode  of  international  and  religious  significance, 
nothing  other  than  an  encounter  of  Christians  and 
Mussulmans  in  which  the  Crusaders,  though  heartened 
to  the  fight  by  an  angel  from  heaven,  are  defeated  and 
with  one  exception  left  dead  on  the  field  of  battle.  This 
victory  of  the  unbelievers  fulfils  part  of  a  prophecy  made 
by  their  idol  before  the  hour  of  conflict.  In  the  remain- 
der of  the  prophecy  the  idol  had  foreshadowed  his  own 
doom.  That  is  now  to  be  fulfilled  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  St.  Nicholas.  Before  an  image  of  the  saint 
left  on  the  field  of  carnage  kneels  the  surviving  Christian. 
Haled  into  the  presence  of  the  victorious  king,  and 
questioned  what  the  object  of  his  homage  may  be,  he 
announces  the  singular  virtue  of  the  saint,  that  in  his 
keeping  all  treasures  are  safe.  The  king  tests  the  truth 
of  the  story  by  opening  the  doors  of  his  treasury,  and 
placing  the  riches  therein  under  the  sole  charge  of  the 
holy  image;  and  "  Prudhomme,"  the  Christian,  sets  his 
life  on  the  outcome.  Earlier  in  the  play  a  tavern  has 
been  discovered.  In  it  now  we  behold  three  jolly  tipplers 
testing  without  stint  a  much-vaunted  vintage  :  then,  alas, 
finding  no  sou  in  their  pockets  with  which  to  pay  the 
shot.  They  resolve  on  rifling  the  king's  treasury,  succeed 
in  so  doing,  —  St.  Nicholas  to  the  contrary,  notwith- 
standing. Back  to  the  tavern  with  their  chest  of 
treasure,  then  more  swilling  of  the  full  bowl,  and  then 


B   3 


S  fej 

„  o 


SECULAR  BY-PRODUCTS  IN  WONDER  77 

a  drunken  sleep.  To  them  thus  fuddled  appears  the 
spirit  of  the  holy  Bishop  and  orders  restitution.  With 
due  detail  of  plot  and  manners  this  is  made  :  the  "  Prud- 
homme's  "  life  is  saved,  St.  Nicholas  vindicated ;  the  king 
and  his  court  are  converted,  and  the  idol  Tervagant  is 
dispossessed  and  disowned. 

Bodel's  treatment  of  his  theme  is  notable  for  its  skilful 
interweaving  of  the  heroic  and  the  picaresque  in  plot,  the 
romantic  and  the  contemporary  commonplace  in  manners. 
He  uses  the  "  wonder "  not  so  much  for  religious  as  for 
esthetic  purposes,  not  to  excuse  but  to  enhance  the 
elements  of  profane  and  spectacular  interest.  This  is 
the  characteristic  also  of  Rutebeuf's  Theophile^ — a  mira- 
cle of  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  which  dramatised 
the  famous  legend  of  how  a  priest  sold  his  soul  to  the 
devil,  and  was  converted  and  restored  to  salvation  by  the 
intercession  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Not  the  conscious, 
but  the  unintentional,  characteristic.  The  Theophile  aims 
to  exalt  the  worship  of  the  Virgin ;  but  the  Theophile 
and  the  collective  Miracles  of  Our  Lady  existed  and 
persisted  because  the  crowd  found  delight  in  legends 
and  romances  which  in  their  human  interest  had,  gener- 
ally speaking,  nothing  to  do  with  the  scriptural  or  eccle- 
siastical history  of  the  mother  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  Mariolatry  of  the  eleventh  century  had,  as  Creiz- 
enach  says,1  produced  by  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  a 
host  of  stories  of  the  miraculous  intervention  of  the 
Virgin  on  behalf  of  the  afflicted  who  venerated  her,  or  of 
the  wanton,  lawless,  or  criminal  who,  repentant,  placed 
themselves  under  her  protection.  By  the  end  of  the 
fourteenth  century  many  of  these  stories,  some,  indeed, 
from  the  apocryphal  gospels  and  the  legends  of  the 
1  Gescbicbte  des  neueren  Dramas,  I,  p.  143. 


78        PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

saints,  but  more  from  mediaeval  chansons  des  gestesy 
fabliaux,  and  romances  familiar  to  common  folk  or 
courtly  circle,  had  found  their  way  into  dramatic  form, 
and  were  presented  before  large  audiences,  not  only  in 
Paris,  but  in  various  provincial  cities,  by  the  Puys  or 
semi-religious,  semi-artistic  associations  of  the  several 
localities.  Under  colour  of  the  worship  of  the  Virgin, 
these  fraternities  made  their  music,  recited  and  sang  their 
rondels  of  extravagant  but  often  exquisite  adoration,  and 
produced  their  Miracles  of  the  Mother  of  our  Lord. 
In  them  she  is  helpless  no  longer,  no  longer  broken- 
hearted or  even  pathetic,  but  victorious,  majestic,  magi- 
cal, and  gracious,  —  a  vision  of  superhuman  chastity  and 
beauty :  a  fusion  of  faery-queen  and  saint  and  Goddess, 
as  unconscious  frequently  as  the  first  of  a  moral  law,  or 
as  the  second  of  a  physical,  or  as  the  third  of  any  kind 
of  limitation  in  the  performance  of  a  superhuman  desire. 

The  subjects  of  the  plays  are  sometimes  heroic,  but 
more  often  simply  human ;  they  are  always  of  the  kind 
that  moves  the  heart  and  stirs  the  blood  of  country-folk  ; 
the  characters  are  historical  or  pseudo-historical,  legendary, 
or  poetically  invented  ;  the  time  is  careless  of  chronology, 
and  the  scene  of  distance  and  locality ;  the  manners  are 
of  the  day  of  the  composition,  and  so  are  the  details;  but 
the  spirit  is  romantic  in  the  zenith.  The  atmosphere 
is  surcharged  and  sultry,  save  when  relieved  by  some 
rare  flash  of  satire.  There  is  little  of  the  real  comic, 
and  less  of  the  permanently  tragic :  for  conciliation  is 
very  easy,  repentance  is  to  change  your  jerkin  or  your 
stomacher,  and  atonement  is  a  dose  of  ecclesiastical  salts 
and  senna. 

Of  how  Ndtre  Dame  succours  the  afflicted  or  the 
wrongly  accused,  among  her  worshippers,  the  following 


SECULAR  BY-PRODUCTS  IN  WONDER  79 

are  examples.  Once  a  citizen's  wife,  long  childless,  had 
been  blessed  with  a  son  in  answer  to  her  prayers  directed 
to  the  Virgin.  Exhausted  by  the  pains  of  child-birth, 
she  falls  asleep  while  bathing  the  babe,  and  he  is  drowned 
in  the  tub.  The  mother  is  accused  of  child-murder  and 
condemned  to  the  stake.  But  the  husband  prays  before 
a  picture  of  the  Virgin ;  she  descends  from  heaven  and 
comforts  him ;  and  when  the  mother,  about  to  be  burned, 
begs  for  one  last  look  at  her  child,  it  is  restored  to  life 
in  her  arms !  Such  also  is  the  story  of  the  Marquise  de 
la  Gaudine,  who,  by  the  accusation  of  her  husband's  uncle, 
to  whom  her  husband  had  entrusted  her  during  his 
absence  from  home,  is  tried  for  unfaithfulness  to  her 
marriage  vow,  and  condemned  to  burn ;  but  by  the 
command  of  Our  Lady,  whose  votary  the  Marquise  was, 
the  husband  fought  a  Voutrance  with  his  false  uncle  and 
defeated  him,  and  so  established  the  innocence  of  his 
wife.  And  again,  there  is  the  miracle  of  the  Bishop,  who 
for  his  faith  in  the  august  merit  of  Our  Lady  was  banished 
to  the  desert,  and  there  buffeted  by  many  devils,  who  left 
him  for  dead ;  but  the  Mother  of  God  appeared  to  him 
faint  and  perishing  for  thirst,  and  gave  him  a  golden 
vessel  filled  with  milk  from  her  own  breasts :  "  Plain  est 
du  kit,"  she  says  — 

"  Plain  est  du  lait  de  mes  mamelles 
Dont  le  fil  Dieu  vierge  allaitay  ! " 

And  again,  the  marvellous  escape  of  the  prevost,  whom, 
at  the  request  of  St.  Pris,  her  worshipper,  the  Virgin 
delivered  from  Purgatory.  And  the  story  of  how  the 
Princess  Isabel,  parading  in  man's  garb  and  armour,  is 
disengaged  from  a  very  embarrassing  situation,  by  being 
temporarily  transformed  to  a  man ! 


8o         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Of  the  grace  of  the  Virgin  to  repentant  sinners  we 
have  stories  even  more  astounding  —  to  the  moral  sense 
at  any  rate,  if  not  to  the  physical  or  the  religious.  Of 
how  an  Abbess,  painfully  strict  with  her  nuns,  falls  in  love 
with  her  clerk,  Perrot ;  and  of  how,  when  she  is  with 
child  by  him  and  is  to  be  tried  by  the  Bishop,  she  calls 
upon  Our  Lady  for  help,  and  is  not  only  delivered  of 
the  child  by  miracle,  but  by  some  juggle  of  moral  prob- 
ability is  promoted,  after  a  lime-light  repentance,  to  a 
higher  position  in  the  church  than  she  had  held  before. 
Says  the  Bishop :  "  It  appears,  indeed,  that  you  are  a 
holy  woman  ;  and  therefore  I  wish  you  to  be  mistress  of 
the  Abbey  of  Mons  :  you  shall  no  longer  be  abbess  here  ; 
it  is  too  mean  an  estate  for  such  as  you  ! "  Or  again,  of 
how  the  wife  of  the  king  of  Portugal  kills  the  sene- 
schal of  the  king  and  her  own  female  cousin,  for  which 
she  is  condemned  to  burn,  and  how  when  she  has  turned 
—  this  double-dyed  murderess  —  in  a  gush  of  penitence, 
to  the  Virgin,  Our  Lady  preserves  her.  And  of  the 
many  misdeeds  of  Robert  the  Devil,  and  of  his  penance, 
and  how  Our  Lady  takes  pity  upon  him,  secures  forgive- 
ness for  him,  and  has  him  married  to  the  emperor's 
daughter.  A  still  more  edifying  instance  of  romantic 
justice  is  afforded  by  the  miracle  of  St.  John  the  Hairy, 
a  hermit  who,  tempted  by  the  devil,  seduces  a  princess 
and  then  throws  her  down  a  deep  well.  After  seven 
years  of  penance,  spent  in  crawling  through  the  forest  on 
all  fours,  he  is  caught  like  some  wild  animal  by  the  king's 
huntsmen  and  taken  before  his  majesty,  the  father  of  the 
lost  princess.  As  the  inquiry  is  beginning,  a  new-born 
babe  identifies  the  "  hairy  "  as  a  saint  and  calls  on  him 
for  baptism.  This  incident  in  his  favour,  — John  con- 
fesses ;  and  the  king,  with  all  the  sentimental  noncha- 


Robert  the  Devil  at  the  Emperor's  Court 
From   "A   History  of  Theatrical   Art" 


SECULAR  BY-PRODUCTS  IN  WONDER  81 

lance  of  Shakespeare's  worst  comedy-heroes,  forgives  him 
on  the  sufficient  ground  that  God  has  done  so  already. 
God  and  Our  Lady  show  their  high  esteem  by  descend- 
ing from  heaven  and  helping  the  hirsute  hypocrite  to 
raise  the  princess  from  her  seven  year's  decomposition. 
She  comes  up  smiling  at  her  seducer's  call ;  and  he  is 
rewarded  with  a  bishopric  ! 

Other  interesting  miracles  are  that  of  St.  Jehan  :  "  Cy 
commence  un  miracle  de  Nostre  Dame  de  Saint  Jehan 
Crisothomes  et  de  Anthure,  sa  mere,  conment  un  roy  lui 
fist  couper  le  poing  et  Nostre  Dame  lui  refist  une 
nouvelle  main,"  —  a  modern  version  of  Joseph  and  Poti- 
phar's  wife ;  and  that  of  the  nun  who  left  her  abbey  to 
elope  with  a  knight.  After  they  had  had  two  beautiful 
children,  Notre  Dame  appeared  to  her,  whereupon  she 
returned  to  the  abbey;  and  he  became  a  monk,  aban- 
doning with  the  utmost  equanimity  the  children  whom 
she  had  asked  him  to  care  for : 

"  Dame,  je  S9ay  bien  qu'ilz  sont  notres : 
En  la  garde  Dieu  les  lairay." 

If  I  mistake  not,  this  is  the  basis  of  Maeterlinck's 
Sister  Beatrice,  and  John  Davidson's  Nun.  There  is 
also  an  example  of  Our  Lady's  retributive  anger  in  the 
story  of  the  mother  of  a  pope  who  was  so  swollen  with 
pride  for  him  and  her  two  other  sons  who  were  cardinals, 
that  she  thought  herself  greater  than  Our  Lady.  And 
so  she  was  punished  and  then  forgiven  by  the  Mother 
of  Grace. 

Though  these  subjects  of  imaginative  or  historic  fic- 
tion, and  of  fictitiously  embroidered  history,  offered  far 
wider  scope  than  did  the  subjects  of  the  scriptural 
mysteries  for  deploying  character,  developing  technique, 

6 


82         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

and  enhancing  the  various  esthetic  kinds  of  interests, 
it  would  be  hard,  as  Petit  de  Julleville  has  told  us,  to 
indicate  with  precision  any  dramatic  progeny  of  their 
distinctive  type.  They  are  the  mirage  of  an  over- 
heated emotional  atmosphere.  Though  romantic,  they 
lack  artistic  truth  and  humour.  They  yielded  place  to 
the  drama  of  more  serious  intent  and  more  genuine 
humour  provided  by  the  mysteries,  and  to  that  of  satiric 
purpose,  realistic  method,  and  biting  wit  which  was  the 
offspring  of  the  Christmas  triduum,  the  farce  of  the 
confraternities  of  fools. 


TRANSITION   OF  LITURGICAL   PLAYS     83 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE  TRANSITION  OF  LITURGICAL  PLAYS 
FROM  CHURCH  TO  GUILD 

WITH  the  miraculous  Mary-plays  of  France,  the  Eng- 
lish miracle  plays  are  not  to  be  confounded.  Like  the 
French  mysteres,  their  material  is  primarily  scriptural ; 
their  origin,  as  we  have  seen,  is  liturgical. 

Mr.  Leach,  in  his  contribution  to  the  Furnivall  Mis- 
cellany on  English  Plays  and  Players,  says  that  from  first 
to  last,  both  at  Lincoln  and  at  Beverley,  "  the  miracle 
plays  were  in  the  hands  of  the  civic  authorities  and  the 
craft  guilds,  assisted,  of  course,  by  the  secular  clergy,  but 
with  no  mention  of  monks  or  regular  canons,"  and  again 
that  the  origin  of  the  English  play  must  be  sought  in  the 
same  quarters,  not  "  in  country  monasteries  and  among 
the  religious,  professionally  so  called."  To  prove  this, 
he  relates  the  account,  from  a  writer  of  about  1220,  of  a 
contemporary  representation  of  the  Lord's  Resurrection, 
already  quoted  in  this  book.  That  representation  was 
given,  as  usual,  by  masked  performers,  not  in  the  church 
but  in  the  churchyard,  "a  customary  institution,  there- 
fore, long  before  the  foundation  of  the  feast  of  Corpus 
Chris ti  led  to  the  concentration  in  one  play  of  the  vari- 
ous religious  dramas  already  presented  to  the  public." 
Mr.  Leach  is  probably  right  in  concluding  that  since 
there  were  no  monks  in  Beverley  or  near  it,  this  was 


84         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

not  a  monkish  play.  But  this  isolated  instance  of  about 
1 220  does  not  prove,  nor  do  Mr.  Leach's  instances  of 
municipal  control  from  the  middle  of  the  next  century, 
that  the  regular  clergy,  /.*.,  monks  and  friars,  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  origin  of  the  English  play  ;  nor  that  the 
plays  at  Lincoln  and  Beverley  were  from  first  to  last  in 
the  hands  of  the  civic  authorities,  merely  "  assisted  "  by 
the  secular  clergy.  These  two  towns  do  not  stand  for 
all  England;  and  all  that  is  proved  is  that,  in  these 
towns,  as  we  already  knew  was  the  case  in  other  towns, 
the  guilds  had  control  of  the  plays  after  the  middle  of 
the  fourteenth  century ;  and  that  as  early  as  1 220  the 
Resurrection  Play,  evidently  of  the  kind  ordinarily 
acted  in  the  church,  is  acted  in  the  churchyard  for  lack 
of  room  in  the  ecclesiastical  edifice.  It  is  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  this  play  was  written  by  the  secular  clergy, 
not  the  people,  and  that,  if  any  assistance  in  acting  was 
given  at  all,  it  was  given  by  the  people  to  the  clergy,  and 
not  vice  versa. 

Of  course,  the  popular  development  of  the  miracle 
plays  was  largely  due  to  their  representation  extra  fores  at 
an  early  period  in  their  career,  and  to  the  speedy  co-oper- 
ation of  laymen  and  the  gradual  control  by  the  muni- 
cipality. But  we  cannot  be  at  all  sure  that  monks  did 
not  sometimes  participate  in  the  preparation  of  these 
plays.  For  not  to  speak  of  the  internal  evidence  of 
occasional  ecclesiastical  authorship,  which  may  as  prob- 
ably have  been  monkish  as  not,  we  have  at  this  day 
dramatic  offices  which  were  written  and  used  by  monks 
both  before  and  after  the  conquest ;  we  know  that  it  was 
found  necessary,  according  to  the  Annales  Burtonenses,  to 
forbid  abbots  and  monks,  as  early  as  1258,  to  witness 
plays  (if  the  plays  were  profane,  that  is  but  a  stronger  indi- 


TRANSITION  OF   LITURGICAL   PLAYS     85 

cation  of  monastic  fondness  for  the  art) ;  and  we  are  told 
that  a  Carmelite  friar  called  Robert  Baston  was  a  well- 
known  playwright  in  1314,  and  that  one  William  Melton 
of  the  Friars  Minors  was,  in  1426,  most  influential  in 
the  regulation  of  the  Corpus  Christi  plays  at  York.  The 
latter  is  denominated  in  the  city  registers  Professor  Pa- 
gin<e  Sacr<e>  which  I  would  still  persist  in  translating 
Professor  of  Holy  Pageantry,  although  a  critic  of  my 
Historical  Account  of  English  Comedy  1  asserts  that  the 
Sacra  Pagina  could  not  possibly  have  been  anything 
but  "  Holy  Writ."  Considering  that  numerous  manu- 
script pageants  close  with  the  words  Explicit  Pagina,  one 
cannot  readily  abandon  the  surmise  that  Melton  was  one 
of  those  who  from  time  to  time  (like  Robart  Croo  of 
Coventry ),  revised,  or  perhaps  even  composed,  paging 
for  the  public.  What  contribution,  if  any,  this  eloquent 
preacher  made  to  the  York  cycle  we  do  not  know,  nor 
whether  Baston  contributed.  The  latter  was  of  Scar- 
borough, and  a  man  of  note,  for  he  accompanied  Ed- 
ward II  on  his  expedition  into  Scotland ;  and  it  is 
recorded  by  Bale  that  he  was  the  author  not  only  of  poems 
and  rhymes,  but  of  Trag<edi<£  et  Com<edi<e  Vulgares.  Of 
course,  these  may  have  been  narratives ;  otherwise,  I 
suspect  with  Collier  that  plays  in  the  vulgar  written  by 
a  friar  would  most  probably  be  miracles.  The  story  of 
Higden's  connection  with  the  Chester  plays  as  author, 
translator,  or  adapter,  has  recently  received  additional 
confirmation.  And  it  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  another 
monk,  Sir  Henry  Francis,  added  to  them,  or  revised. 
But  while  we  need  not  accept  vague  rumours  of  monkish 
authorship,  accumulated  evidence  would  certainly  indicate 
its  occasional  existence.  These  considerations  make  me 
1  Atbenaumt  Aug.  i,  1903. 


86        PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

chary  of  eliminating  monkish  participation  altogether; 
also  of  accepting  the  conjecture  of  municipal  control 
"from  first  to  last." 

To  the  secular  clergy  is  undoubtedly  due  most  of  the 
credit  for  popularising  the  religious  spectacles.  The 
Manuel  de  Pechiez  of  the  first  half  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury attributes  not  only  the  contrivance  but  the  acting  of 
miracles  to  "  Us  fous  clers, "  who  performed  them  not 
only  for  purposes  of  devotion  in  the  church,  which  was 
permissible,  but,  which  was  reprehensible,  before  crowds 
in  public  squares  and  churchyards ;  and  Robert  le 
Brunne,  in  his  English  version  of  the  Manuel  in  1303, 
holds  up  for  like  reprobation  the  acting  of  such  sacred 
subjects  "  by  clerks  of  the  order"  on  the  public  ways 
and  greens.  It  was  a  sacrilege  to  convert  the  mysteries 
of  the  passion,  properly  represented  in  the  church  for 
purposes  of  devotion,  to  material  of  amusement  and  un- 
holy gain.  From  the  beginning  of  the  second  quarter  of 
the  fourteenth  century  mention  is  still  frequently  made 
in  contemporary  literature  of  miracles  as  "  clerkes  pleis  " 
and  of  clerks  as  actors  in  them.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
about  this  period,  if  not  somewhat  earlier,  the  guilds 
were  beginning  to  co-operate  with  the  clergy  in  proces- 
sional pageants,  and  possibly  in  formal  plays,  of  the  Cor- 
pus Christi ;  but  as  yet  guilds  had  nothing  like  complete 
control.  As  late  as  1378  we  find  a  close  religious 
corporation,  that  of  the  scholars  and  choristers  of  St. 
Paul's,  resisting  the  encroachment  of  laymen  upon  their 
privilege  of  enacting  Old  Testament  histories  at  Christ- 
mas time ;  and  the  corporation  appears  to  have  been 
successful. 

Whether  monks  at  any  time  had  a  hand  in  the  incep- 
tion or  performance  of  these  plays  may  remain  an  open 


TRANSITION   OF  LITURGICAL   PLAYS     87 

question.  We  may  be  sure,  however,  that  the  craft  plays 
as  we  have  them  are  the  result  of  collaboration  through 
generations  by  the  secular  clergy  of  collegiate  churches, 
parish  clerks,  town  clergy,  town  clerks,  secular  clerks  of 
the  universities,  and  grammar-school  masters,1  and  by 
the  occasional  guild  playwright  and  the  craftsman  impro- 
viser.  Such  participation  as  the  cloistered  orders  may 
have  had  is  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  long-con- 
tinued collaboration  of  the  secular  and  the  lay. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  after  the  in- 
dustrial crafts  had  taken  them  up  these  miracles  ceased  to 
be  cultivated  by  the  clerical  and  semi-clerical  orders,  or  to 
be  acted  in  ecclesiastical  precincts.  The  guild  of  which 
we  first  are  informed  that  its  functions  were  to  cultivate 
processional  and  artistic  as  well  as  devotional  and  phil- 
anthropic ends  was  semi-clerical  rather  than  secular.  It 
is  that  of  the  Parish  Clerks  of  London,  incorporated  by 
Henry  III  about  1240.  Of  these  clerks,  Hone,  in  his 
Ancient  Mysteries,  says  that  they  were  under  the  patronage 
of  St.  Nicholas,  and  that  it  was  an  essential  part  of  their 
profession  not  only  to  sing,  but  to  read,  —  an  accomplish- 
ment almost  solely  confined  to  the  clergy ;  so  that,  on 
the  whole,  they  seem  to  come  under  the  denomination 
of  a  semi-religious  fraternity.  "  It  was  anciently  cus- 
tomary," Hone  tell  us,  "  for  men  and  women  of  the 
first  quality,  ecclesiastics  and  others  who  were  lovers  of 
church  music,  to  be  admitted  into  this  corporation ;  and 
they  gave  large  gratuities  for  the  support  and  education 
of  many  persons  in  the  practice  of  that  science.  Their 
public  feasts  were  frequent,  and  celebrated  with  song  and 
music."  According  to  Warton  their  profession,  employ- 
ment, and  character  naturally  dictated  to  this  spiritual 
1  See  Leach,  Furn.  Misc.,  p.  233. 


88         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

brotherhood  the  representation  of  plays,  especially  those 
of  the  spiritual  kind.  We  do  not  know  how  early  this 
semi-religious  guild  took  to  acting ;  but  it  is  certain  that 
in  1391  they  had  been  playing  cyclic  miracles  at  Skinners' 
Well  (Clerkenwell )  for  many  years,  since  they  enjoyed, 
at  that  time  and  place,  the  presence  of  the  king,  queen, 
and  nobles  of  the  realm  during  a  performance  which  was 
of  great  'eclat  and  lasted  for  three  days.  In  1409  the 
Clerkenwell  plays  were  still  so  popular  that  "  most  part 
of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  England  "  attended  during 
a  dramatic  cycle  which  lasted  eight  days.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  Stow,  the  historian,  calls  these  interludes  at 
Skinners'  Well  of  1391  an  "example  of  later  time," 
informing  us  that  "  of  old  time "  the  parish  clerks  of 
London  were  accustomed  yearly  to  assemble  at  Clerkes' 
Well  near  by,  "  and  to  play  some  large  history  of  Holy 
Scripture."  Since  Clerkenwell  is  mentioned  by  Fitz- 
stephen  in  his  description  of  London  as  a  place  fre- 
quented by  scholars  and  youth,  I  think  it  practically 
certain  that  the  sacred  plays  of  which  he  elsewhere  speaks 
as  acted  in  London,  between  1170  and  1182,  were  played 
then  by  these  parish  clerks  and  at  the  same  place. 

As  to  the  purely  industrial  guilds,  we  have  earlier 
mention  of  their  participation  in  secular  than  in  religious 
processions  and  the  pageants  that  attended  them.  "  Tri- 
umphant shows,"  as  Stow  calls  the  "  royal  entries  "  into 
London  and  other  great  towns,  consisted  of  processions 
in  which  some  citizens  rode  and  others  presented  "  pa- 
geants and  strange  devices."  Davidson,  in  his  English 
Mystery  Plays,  argues  that  these  pageants  were,  in  Eng- 
land as  in  France,  stationary,  and  so  continued  until  the 
sixteenth  century.  But  most  of  his  examples  are  drawn 
from  France.  While  the  pageants  in  1236  in  London  for 


0  > 

a  _. 


TRANSITION  OF  LITURGICAL   PLAYS     89 

Eleanor  of  Provence  may  have  been  stationary,  those  in 
1293  for  Edward  I  were  presented  by  the  guild  of  fish- 
mongers, moving  through  the  streets.  Of  the  pageants 
in  1377  for  Richard  II,  some  were  progressive,  others 
stationary.  I  see  nothing  to  prove  that  such  pageants 
were,  in  England,  taken  from  the  Bible  story  at  an 
earlier  date  than  1430,  though  they  may  have  been  to 
some  extent  in  France.  As  to  the  dramatic  quality  of 
the  shows,  though  they  were  at  first,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  French,  bas-reliefs  of  living  figures,  they  rapidly  took 
on  the  braver  qualities  of  the  mumming  and  masking;  and 
as  to  the  mumming  and  masking,  we  know  that  they  be- 
fore long  added  to  themselves  speech  and  gesticulation  like 
the  regular  drama.  Lydgate,  for  instance,  accompanied 
with  verses  the  allegorical  pageants  for  Mayings  and  royal 
entries  in  1430  and  after.  It  is  largely  because  the  guilds 
of  the  city  could  not  well  afford  to  support  religious  plays 
in  addition  to  these  expensive  shows,  that  the  London  of 
those  days  did  not  contribute  as  much  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  religious  drama  as  did  the  provinces. 

The  procession  out  of  which  grew  most  of  the  cyclic 
craft-plays  was,  as  we  know,  that  of  Corpus  Christi.  In 
this  gorgeous  religious  parade  both  clergy  and  laity 
marched,  and  in  the  pageants  representing  the  principal 
events  in  sacred  history,  they  undoubtedly  at  first  co- 
operated—  a  powerful  means  for  the  secularisation  of 
the  scriptural  drama.  These  pageants,  falling  more  ex- 
clusively into  the  hands  of  the  crafts,  must  have  gained 
in  importance  so  rapidly  as  to  imperil  the  success  of  the 
procession  itself.  For  we  notice  that  in  1327,  only  six- 
teen years  after  the  re-enforcement  of  the  Corpus  Christi 
celebration  by  the  Council  of  Vienne,  there  was  founded 
in  London  a  fraternity  of  Corpus  Christi  of  the  Skinners' 


9o        PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Company,  the  express  function  of  which  was  to  foster 
the  religious  procession.  Semi-religious  guilds  similar  to 
that  of  the  London  Skinners  are  recorded  as  existing  in 
Coventry,  Cambridge,  and  in  Leicester  1348-9.  In 
York,  it  was  not  until  1426  that  the  pageants  displayed 
by  the  industrial  guilds  or  crafts  were  finally  separated 
from  the  religious  processions.  That  the  semi-religious 
fraternities  did  not,  however,  confine  themselves  to  pro- 
cessional activity  appears  from  the  history  of  the  Parish 
Clerks  of  London.  It  is  thought  by  some,  indeed,  that 
the  Ludus  Filiorum  Israel,  Cambridge,  1350,  was  acted 
by  the  Corpus  Christi  guild  of  that  town,  but  I  agree 
with  Davidson  and  his  authorities  that  it  was  more  likely 
a  school  play.  The  next  religious  plays,  acted  by  the 
crafts,  of  which  I  have  been  able  to  find  notice  are  the 
Corpus  Christi  cycles  of  Beverley,  in  1377,  and  of  York, 
in  1378,  and  the  Paternoster  Play  of  York,  in  1384, 
acted  by  a  special  fraternity ;  but  at  those  dates  the  plays 
were  evidently  of  long  standing.  Though  we  cannot 
trust  the  traditional  attribution  of  the  Chester  plays  to 
1268,  it  is  probable,  as  I  have  elsewhere  shown,  that  the 
popular  presentation  of  them  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
guilds  before  1352,  and  maybe  as  early  as  1327.  We 
must  not  imagine,  however,  that  the  church  took  its 
hand  altogether  off  the  plays.  In  many  places  the 
clergy  of  the  collegiate  church  or  cathedral  continued  to 
co-operate  as  a  guild ;  for  instance,  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  Lincoln  Cathedral  as  late  as  1483.1 

WHITSUNTIDE  AND  CORPUS  CHRISTI 

So  long  as  these  dramas  were  given  within  the  church, 
they  could,  of  course,  be  presented,  at  any  season  of  the 
1  Leach,  Furn.  Mist.,  p.  225. 


TRANSITION   OF  LITURGICAL   PLAYS     91 

year  and  on  the  appropriate  festival.  But  when  they 
began  to  pass  from  the  church  to  the  court  in  front, 
and  to  the  churchyard  and  street  and  public  green,  the 
consideration  of  climate  influenced  the  choice  of  season. 
We  hear  of  plays  presented  out  of  doors  even  in  the 
winter  at  a  few  places :  for  instance,  the  plays  of  the 
scholars  of  St.  Paul's,  about  1378,  which  were  given 
"  publickly  "  by  the  clergy  at  Christmas,  and  sometimes, 
probably,  in  the  yard ;  and  plays  performed  at  Christmas 
in  Chester,  several  times  during  the  sixteenth  century. 
Of  processional  guild  plays  of  the  Nativity  presented  on 
Candlemas  (February  2),  in  Aberdeen,  we  have  records 
running  from  1442  to  1533  ;  and  at  other  places  of  out- 
door Easter  plays  even  when  Easter  fell  early  in  the 
year.  But,  in  general,  the  holy  days  of  late  spring  and 
of  summer  were  naturally  preferred  for  such  events ;  and 
individual  plays,  and  cycles  in  part  or  in  whole,  are  re- 
corded as  occurring  in  various  districts  at  such  clement 
seasons  as  Holy  Cross  day  (May  3),  St.  John  Baptist 
day  (June  24),  St.  Anne's  day  (July  26),  St.  Bartholomew's 
day  (August  24),  during  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and 
sixteenth  centuries.  The  favourite  season,  however, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  for  sacred 
representations  in  England  as  well  as  Italy,  was  Whitsun- 
tide ;  and  in  Chester  the  cyclic  miracles  were  commonly 
called  Whitsun  plays,  even  during  the  sixteenth  century, 
though  they  may  have  been  played  in  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  on  Corpus  Christi.  In  New  Romney,  also,  dur- 
ing the  fifteenth  century,  and  in  Norwich  during  the 
sixteenth,  Whitsuntide  continued  to  be  the  season  of 
miracles. 

After  Pope  Clement  V  at  the  Council  of  Vienne,  in 
1311,  had  revived  the  purpose  of  Urban  IV,  and  made 


92        PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

a  universal  Christian  feast  of  Corpus  Christi — the  Thurs- 
day after  Trinity  Sunday  —  that  came  to  be,  broadly  on 
the  continent,  and  especially  in  England,  the  day  for 
pageants  of  Christian  history  and  belief.  For  various 
reasons :  the  festival  celebrates  the  central,  most  concrete 
and  most  dramatic  conception  of  the  liturgical  service, — 
the  Real  Presence  of  Christ  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament ; 
it  seizes  also  the  most  thrilling  moment  for  commemora- 
tion,—  the  elevation  of  the  consecrated  Host,  the  sacri- 
fice made  for  man  ;  it  provides  that  the  Host  be  borne 
in  monstrance  with  all  pomp,  dignity,  and  ceremony  out 
from  the  Holy  of  Holies  and  through  the  streets  of  the 
city ;  it  rejoices  in  a  mass  and  office  as  beautiful  as  they 
are  appropriate  and  imposing,  —  a  liturgy  fashioned  by 
three  of  the  most  poetic  ecclesiastics  of  a  most  poetic  pope- 
ritualist  of  a  century  steeped  in  mystic  contemplation, 
creative  of  symbol  and  gorgeous  with  ceremonial.  John 
of  Mount  Cornelio  originated  the  service,  St.  Bonaventura 
and  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  revised  it.  From  the  last  of 
these,  the  Seraphic  Doctor,  alone,  it  received  its  final  form, 
its  inimitable  "  Lauda  Sion  "  and  its  exquisite  hymns  ;  and 
from  Urban  IV  its  extension  to  the  church  catholic.  The 
festival  stirred  the  sense  both  of  civic  solidarity  and  of  that 
wider  communion  of  the  saints  which  is  the  church  univer- 
sal. Archbishop  and  acolyte,  cleric  and  layman,  mayor 
and  craftsman,  not  of  one  city  or  diocese  or  province,  but 
of  every  corner  of  the  spiritual  principality  of  the  catholic 
world,  on  that  day  marched  in  ecstatic  procession  to  honour 
the  church  invisible,  visible  in  the  flesh,  —  the  God  incar- 
nate, manifest  in  the  Host.  History  and  prophecy  were 
fused  in  one  moment,  and  that  the  present.  The  season, 
too,  was  the  most  propitious  of  the  year, —  the  end  of  May 
or  within  the  first  four  and  twenty  days  of  June.  It  was 


TRANSITION  OF  LITURGICAL   PLAYS    93 

but  natural,  therefore,  that  the  guilds  taking  part  in  this 
annual  solemnity,  rivalling  one  the  other  in  the  demon- 
stration of  industrial  splendour  and  civic  pride,  should 
gradually  undertake  to  present  in  pantomimic  pageant  or 
dumb-show  some  part  of  that  scriptural  history  which 
all  were  celebrating,  and  to  present  it  by  a  scene  appro- 
priate to  the  function  of  the  individual  guild.  And  it 
was  but  a  question  of  time  that  these  "pageants  "  or  floats 
upon  wheels,  should  become  the  stage  for  acting  and 
speaking  performers  of  plays  formerly  liturgical,  but 
now  rapidly  assuming  popular  features  and  vernacular 
speech. 

After  1311,  then,  the  collective  miracles,  whether 
played  on  this  eventful  day  or  not,  were  generally  called 
Corpus  Christi  plays ;  in  many  parts  of  England,  north 
and  south,  they  were,  indeed,  performed  upon  that  day  :  in 
York,  for  instance,  for  two  hundred  years  beginning  with 
1378,  —  during  the  first  fifty  in  connection  with  the 
ecclesiastical  procession, — after  that  separately,  the  proces- 
sion being  deferred  to  the  next  day ;  in  Beverley  from 
about  the  same  date  of  beginning  till  1 520, —  from  Richard 
II  to  Henry  VIII ;  in  Ipswich,  sometimes  procession, 
sometimes  plays,  from  1325  till  1520;  also  at  Bungay 
and  Bury  St.  Edmunds  in  Suffolk ;  in  Newcastle  from 
the  fourth  year  of  Henry  VI  to  the  third  of  Elizabeth, 
and  in  Kendal  of  Westmoreland  as  late  as  1612.  In 
Coventry,  also,  in  Wakefield  or  its  neighbourhood,  in 
Lancaster  and  Louth,  Preston,  Salisbury,  Worcester,  and 
other  places,  of  which  lists  have  been  given  by  Miss  Lucy 
Toulmin  Smith  and  Mr.  Chambers,  the  plays  were  long 
acted  on  that  day.  Of  course,  the  custom  was  not  uni- 
form. In  Aberdeen,  as  I  have  said,  the  play-seasons 
were  Candlemas  for  the  Nativity,  and  Corpus  Christi  for 


94        PLAYS  OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

the  "  Halyblude  "  or  Passion  ;  in  Dublin,  for  processions 
and  sometimes  plays,  St.  George's  day  (April  23),  and 
Corpus  Cbristi;  and  at  Chelmsford,  Midsummer  day. 
In  Lincoln  the  play-season  varied;  but  after  1500  it 
generally  fell  on  the  day  of  St.  Anne. 


REPRESENTATION  OF  THE  CYCLES    95 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   SECULAR   REPRESENTATION   OF  THE 
ENGLISH   CYCLES 

REGULATION   BY   THE   CRAFTS 

CONCERNING  the  regulation  of  the  Corpus  Christi  plays, 
various  notices  are  extant.  Mr.  Leach  says  of  the  Bev- 
erley  :  "  Among  the  digests  [and  orders  is  an  Ordinance 
of  the  Play  of  Corpus  Christi  in  1390.  It  was  then 
f  ordered  by  the  whole  community  that  all  the  craftsmen 
(artifices)  of  Beverley,  viz.  Mercers,  Tanners,  Masons,' 
and  thirty-three  other  companies  of  trades  or  mysteries 
[ministeriaj  wisteria,  trades]  *  shall  have  their  plays  and 
pageants  ready  henceforth  on  every  Corpus  Christi  Day 
in  fashion  and  form  according  to  the  ancient  customs  of 
the  town  of  Beverley,  to  play  in  honour  of  the  Body  of 
Christ,  under  the  penalty  of  40  shillings  for  every  craft 
that  fails.' '  This  is  evidently  a  re-enactment  of  an  old 
law.  "  Certain  it  is  that  the  crafts  themselves  had  long 
before  taken  an  official  part  in  the  Corpus  Christi  Play. 
For  another  Order  recites  how  in  1377  the  Keepers  of 
the  Town  and  the  Tailors  consented  in  the '  Gild  Hall 
*  that  all  the  Tailors  of  Beverley  should  be  personally 
present  at  the  yearly  accounts  made  of  their  pageants  of 
the  Play  of  Corpus  Christi,  and  in  their  castle  on 
Monday  in  the  Rogation  Days  ;  but  any  free  tailor,  not  in 
the  livery  of  the  craft,  should  pay  to  the  expenses  of  the 


96         PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

castle  only.'  The  castles  were  wooden  stages  in  which 
the  crafts  sat  to  see  the  procession  of  the  shrine  of  St. 
John  of  Beverley  go  by  on  Monday  in  Rogation  week." 
Elsewhere  Mr.  Leach  gives  a  list  of  the  Gubernacio  Ludi 
Carports  Christi  from  the  original  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the 
Great  Gild  Book,  —  beginning  with  the  Tylers  and  the 
Fallinge  of  Lucifer,  the  Saddelers  and  the  Making  of 
the  World ;  and  ending  with  the  Prestes  and  the  Coro- 
nation of  Our  Lady;  the  Merchaunts  and  Domesday. 
Thirty-five  acts  in  all,  as  compared  with  fifty-seven  at 
York  in  1415;  thirty-two  at  Wakefield  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI ;  forty-two  at  Coventry,  and  twenty-five  at 
Chester  in  the  last  decade  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
"  Some  attempt,"  he  says,  "  was  made  to  adapt  the  char- 
acter of  the  scene  to  be  performed  to  the  nature  of  the 
craft  carried  on  by  the  performers.  Thus  the  Priests  at 
Beverley  (as  at  Lincoln)  presented  The  Coronation  of 
the  Virgin  while  the  Cooks  everywhere  performed  The 
Harrying  of  Hell,  called  'the  coks  pageant'  because 
they  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  things  out  of  the  fire ; 
and  the  Watermen  found  the  Ark,  or  Noe's  Shippe ; 
the  Bakers  the  maundy  (the  Last  Supper  on  the  Thurs- 
day of  Passion  Week,  when  Christ  gave  his  last  *  mandate  ' 
to  the  disciples)."  I  don't  find,  by  the  way,  that  the 
Cooks  everywhere  played  The  Harrowing:  they  didn't 
in  York.  But  the  attempt  at  appropriate  distribution 
was  undoubtedly  made.  In  York  a  certain  humorous 
affinity  of  guild  and  play  leaps  to  the  eye,  as  when  the 
Shipwrights  devote  themselves  to  the  Construction  of  the 
Ark,  the  Fishmongers  to  The  Flood,  the  Chandlers  to  the 
Shepherds  and  the  Star,  the  Goldcrafts  to  the  Three  Kings, 
the  Nailors  and  Sawyers  to  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents, 
and  the  Barbers  to  the  Baptism  of  Jesus.  The  system 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES    97 

of  co-operation  among  the  guilds  obtained  in  nearly  all 
places  where  such  cycles  were  performed :  in  Chester, 
Coventry,  Newcastle,  Lincoln,  etc.  In  Lincoln,  how- 
ever, the  cathedral  chapter  always  retained  an  active 
connection  with  the  performance,  and  the  Guild  of  St. 
Anne  directed ;  while  in  London  the  presentation  was 
in  the  hands,  generally  speaking,  not  of  crafts  at  all,  but 
of  the  clerks  in  minor  orders,  especially  those  of  the 
Guild  of  St.  Nicholas. 

The  right  to  present  a  certain  subject  by  way  of  a  play 
on  Corpus  Christi  day  was  granted  to  the  guild  by  the 
municipality,  and  for  the  proper  performance  of  its 
function  the  guild  was  responsible  to  the  corporation 
under  penalty  of  fine.  "  According  to  the  Annals,"  says 
Mr.  Chambers,1  "part  of  the  charges  of  the  plays  was  met 
(in  Coventry)  by  the  enclosure  of  a  piece  of c  common '  land 
(possibly  to  build  pageant  houses  upon).  Otherwise  they 
fell  wholly  upon  the  crafts,  to  some  one  of  which  every 
artisan  in  the  town  was  bound  to  become  contributory 
for  the  purpose.  The  principal  crafts  were  appointed  by 
the  Leet  to  produce  the  pageants ;  and  with  each  were 
grouped  minor  bodies  liable  only  for  fixed  sums,  varying 
from  3^.  4^.  to  i6s.  %d.  In  1501  an  outside  craft, 
the  Tilemakers  of  Stoke,  is  found  contributing  $s.  to  a 
pageant."  Of  external  contribution  and  co-operation  there 
are  in  Wakefield  and  elsewhere  many  examples.  "  These 
combinations  of  crafts  varied  considerably  from  time  to 
time.  Within  the  craft  the  necessary  funds  were  raised, 
in  part  at  least,  by  special  levies.  Strangers  taking  out 
their  freedom  were  sometimes  called  upon  for  a  contri- 
bution. Every  member  of  the  craft  paid  his  '  pagent 
pencys.'  In  several  crafts  the  levy  was  is." 

1  Med.  St.,  II,  358-359. 
7 


98        PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

As  the  performances,  because  of  civic  pride  or  guild 
rivalry,  grew  in  size,  length,  and  magnificence,  the  expense 
became  more  and  more  burdensome;  and  we  conse- 
quently note  frequent  entries  of  fines  imposed  upon 
neglectful  or  rebellious  companies,  and  of  petitions  from 
some  crafts  for  amalgamation  with  others  more  wealthy, 
or  for  entire  relief.  "In  1539  the  mayor  of  Coventry, 
writing  to  Cromwell,  told  him  that  the  poor  commoners 
were  at  such  expense  with  their  plays  and  pageants  that 
they  fared  the  worse  all  the  year  after."  In  numerous 
instances  individuals  are  fined  for  neglect  of  duty  in 
respect  of  the  annual  plays.  Several  cases  from  Beverley 
are  cited  by  Mr.  Leach.  "On  June  18,  1450,  five 
fishers  were  made  to  put  down  8j.  each  for  not  playing 
their  play  on  Corpus  Christi  Day,  and  ordered  to  have 
their  pageant  ready  by  Palm  Sunday  next  at  the  latest. 
On  May  24,  1452,  Henry  Cowper,  a  'webster'  or 
weaver,  because  he  did  not  know  his  part  (nesciebat  ludum 
suutri)  on  Corpus  Christi  Day,  in  spite  of  the  proclama- 
tion by  the  common  bellman,  forfeited  6s.  %d.  to  the 
commonalty."  He  had  only  %s.  4^. ;  so  they  took  the 
fourpence  and  warned  him  not  to  forget  his  lines  another 
time.  Fortunate  Henry!  In  1456  the  Dyers  are 
threatened  because  they  were  not  ready  with  their 
pageant,  which  was  to  have  come  first  in  the  cycle.  And 
in  1459  the  Butchers  had  a  narrow  escape  of  a  40^.  fine 
for  being  tardy  with  their  play.  In  1520-21,  the  alder- 
man of  the  painters,  Richard,  fitly  surnamed  Trollopp, 
got  a  pecuniary  trouncing  from  the  governors  because 
this  company's  play,  The  Three  Kings  of  Cologne  (Magi), 
was  badly  and  confusedly  played  in  contempt  of  the 
whole  community,  before  many  strangers"  This  must 
have  been  a  source  of  peculiar  mortification  to  the  Pro- 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  99 

motion  Committee  of  the  town  of  Beverley,  especially 
as  that  committee,  consisting  of  the  Board  of  Governors, 
had  "  spent  no  less  than  451.  3^.  on  themselves  and  other 
gentlemen  at  the  time  of  the  Corpus  Christi  Play." 
Mr.  Leach  cynically  concludes  that  the  fines  were  a  set- 
off  for  the  bill  at  the  tavern.  The  Coventry  Leet  Book 
and  Records  indicate  that  a  similarly  significant  share  of 
the  public  moneys  went  to  assuage  thirst,  —  not  only  of 
pageant-drawers,  and  actors  between  station  and  station, 
but  of  the  magnificoes.  Those  inland  towns  are  really 
very  warm  between  Whitsuntide  and  Corpus  Christi. 

That  a  company  was  wont  to  entrust  the  management 
of  its  pageant  to  some  responsible  person  is  shown  by 
occasional  entries  in  their  books ;  for  instance,  in  Beverley, 
1391,  when  John  of  Arras,  a  "hayrer,"  gave  surety  for 
himself  and  his  fellow  craftsmen  "  to  play  a  play  called 
Paradise  .  .  .  during  his  life,  at  his  proper  cost";  and 
in  Coventry,  1453,  when  Thomas  Colclow,  a  skinner,  ar- 
ranged with  the  Smiths  to  have  the  rule  of  their  pageant 
for  twelve  years ;  the  keepers  of  the  craft  to  dine  with 
Colclow  every  Whitsun  week,  each  master  to  pay  him  4^., 
and  he,  Colclow,  to  have  46^.  8^/.,  yearly  for  his  labour ; 
and  in  1591,  at  Coventry,  when  Cappers,  Mercers,  and 
Drapers  made  a  similar  arrangement  with  a  gentleman 
of  some  standing  in  the  community,  a  certain  Thomas 
Massye,  who  describes  himself  as  "a  branche  of  the 
Barony  and  Knighthood  of  Massyes  Dunham  in 

Cheshire."  l 

METHODS  OF  PRESENTATION 

On  June  26,  1449,  it  was  ordered  in  Beverley 
"  that  the  pageants  of  Corpus  Christi  be  assigned  to 

1  Sharp,  A  Dissertation  on  the  Pageants  or  Dramatic  Mysteries,  an- 
ciently performed  at  Coventry,  pp.  1 5,  75. 


ioo      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

be  played  as  under :  viz.  at  the  North  Bar ;  by  the 
Bull-ring  ;  between  John  Skipworth  and  Robert  Couke 
in  Highgate ;  at  the  Cross  Bridge ;  at  the  Fishmarket ; 
at  the  Minster  Bow,  and  at  the  Beck.  Similar  di- 
rections concerning  the  successive  stations  for  pageants 
are  preserved  in  the  annals  of  York1  and  of  other 
municipalities. 

The  manner  of  presentation  of  the  cyclic  miracles  by 
the  crafts  or  guild-companies  of  the  town  is,  however, 
best  given  in  an  account  written  by  Archdeacon  Rogers, 
who  died  in  I595>  and  saw  the  Whitsun  plays  performed 
at  Chester  in  the  preceding  year.  The  account  is  quoted 
by  Wright  in  his  edition  of  the  Chester  plays,  and  has 
been  reprinted  by  nearly  every  writer  on  the  subject.  I 
must  therefore  be  pardoned  for  repeating  it  anew;  but 
I  do  not  see  how  the  reader  can  dispense  with  it 

"The  time  of  the  year  they  were  played,"  says  he, 
"was  on  Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Wednesday  in  Whitsun 
week.  The  manner  of  these  plays  were,  every  company 
had  his  pageant  or  part,  which  pageants  were  a  high 
scaffold  with  two  rooms,  a  higher  and  a  lower,  upon  four 
wheels.  In  the  lower  they  apparelled  themselves,  and  in 
the  higher  room  they  played,  being  all  open  on  the  top, 
that  all  beholders  might  hear  and  see  them.  The  places 
where  they  played  them  was  in  every  street.  They 
began  first  at  the  abbey  gates  ;  and  when  the  first  pageant 
was  played,  it  was  wheeled  to  the  High  Cross  before  the 
mayor,  and  so  to  every  street;  and  so  every  street  had 
a  pageant  playing  before  them  at  one  time.  And  when 
one  pageant  was  ended,  word  was  brought  from  street  to 
street,  that  so  they  might  come  in  place  thereof,  exceeding 
orderly ;  and  all  the  streets  have  their  pageants  afore  them, 
1  Drake's  History  of  Tor k. 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  101 

all  at  one  time,  playing  together.  To  see  which  plays 
was  great  resort ;  and  also  scaffolds  and  stages  made 
in  the  streets  in  those  places  where  they  determined  to 
play  their  pageants."  Again,  elsewhere,  the  Archdeacon 
says  :  "  The  manner  of  which  plays  was  thus  :  they  were 
divided  into  twenty-four  pageants,  according  to  the  com- 
panies of  the  city ;  and  every  company  brought  forth 
their  pageant,  which  was  the  carriage  or  place  which  they 
played  in.  And  they  first  began  at  the  Abbey  gates, 
and  when  the  first  pageant  was  played  at  the  Abbey 
gates,  then  it  was  wheeled  from  thence  to  Pentice,  at  the 
High  Cross,  before  the  mayor;  and  before  that  was 
done  the  second  came,  and  the  first  went  into  the  Water- 
gate Street,  and  from  thence  into  the  Bridge  Street ;  and 
so,  one  after  another  till  all  the  pageants  were  played,  ap- 
pointed for  the  first  day  ;  and  so  likewise  for  the  second 
and  the  third  day.  These  pageants  or  carriages  was  a  high 
place  made  like  a  house  with  two  rooms,  being  open  on 
the  top :  the  lower  room  they  apparelled  and  dressed 
themselves  [in] ,  and  [in]  the  higher  room  they  played. 
And  they  stood  upon  six  wheels.  And  when  they 
had  done  with  one  pageant  in  one  place,  they  wheeled 
the  same  from  one  street  to  another." 

Archdeacon  Rogers  describes  the  pageant  as  having 
but  two  "  rooms."  Strutt,  however,  in  his  Manners  and 
Customs^  says  that  in  the  beginning  of  miracle  playing 
"  what  is  now  called  the  stage  did  consist  of  three  plat- 
forms or  stages,  raised  one  above  the  other:  on  the 
uppermost  sat  the  Pater  Calestis,  surrounded  with  his  an- 
gels ;  on  the  second  appeared  the  holy  saints  and  glorified 
men  ;  and  the  last  and  lowest  was  occupied  by  mere 
men,  who  had  not  yet  passed  from  this  transitory 
life  to  the  regions  of  eternity.  On  one  side  of  this 


102       PLAXS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

lowest  platform  was  the  resemblance  of  a  dark  pitchy 
cavern,  from  whence  issued  appearance  of  fire  and  flames; 
and  when  it  was  necessary  the  audience  was  treated  with 
hideous  veilings  and  noises,  as  imitative  of  the  howlings 
and  cries  of  the  wretched  souls  tormented  by  the  relent- 
less demons.  From  this  yawning  cave  the  devils  them- 
selves constantly  ascended  to  delight  and  to  instruct  the 
spectators  :  to  delight,  because  they  were  usually  the 
greatest  jesters  and  buffoons  that  then  appeared ;  and  to 
instruct,  for  that  they  treated  the  wretched  mortals  who 
were  delivered  to  them  with  the  utmost  cruelty,  warning 
thereby  all  men  carefully  to  avoid  the  falling  into  the 
clutches  of  such  hardened  and  remorseless  spirits.  But 
in  the  more  improved  state  of  the  theatre,  and  when 
regular  plays  were  introduced,  all  this  mummery  was 
abolished,  and  the  whole  cavern  and  devils,  together  with 
the  highest  platform  before  mentioned,  entirely  taken 
away,"  leaving  the  upper  and  lower  stages  as  described  by 
Archdeacon  Rogers.  Strutt  gives  no  authority  for  his 
three  platforms ;  and,  as  Thomas  Sharp  has  said  in  his 
famous  Dissertation  on  the  Coventry  Mysteries,  he  must  have 
had  reference  to  a  fixed  stage  such  as  was  ordinarily  used 
in  France.  The  description  would  not  conform  to  the 
needs  of  a  movable  pageant.  Still,  there  may  have  been 
for  exceptional  plays  distinct  and  exceptional  forms  of 
vehicle;  and  in  some  parts  of  England -r- Cornwall,  for 
instance  —  the  performance  was  stationary. 

Of  the  latter  arrangement  the  following  account  is 
given  by  Edwin  Norris l :  "  We  have  no  notice  of  the 
performance  of  the  Cornish  plays  earlier  than  that  of 
Richard  Carew,  whose  survey  of  Cornwall  was  first 
printed  in  1602.  In  his  time  they  were  played  in  regu- 

1  Ancient  Cornish  Drama,  II,  453. 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  103 

lar  amphitheatres,  and  the  account  he  gives  is  well  worth 
extracting,  as  it  affords  a  vivid  picture  by  one  who  was 
in  all  probability  an  eyewitness,  over  three  centuries  ago. 
*  The  Guary  miracle,  in  English,  a  miracle  play,  is  a 
kinde  of  Enterlude,  compiled  in  Cornish  out  of  some 
scripture  history,  with  that  grosseness  which  accompanied 
the  Romanes  vetus  Comedia.  For  representing  it,  they 
raise  an  earthen  amphitheatre  in  some  open  field,  having 
the  Diameter  of  his  enclosed  playne  some  40  or  50  foot. 
The  Country  people  flock  from  all  sides,  many  miles  off, 
to  hear  and  see  it ;  for  they  have  therin,  devils  and 
devices,  to  delight  as  well  the  eye  as  the  eare ;  the  players 
conne  not  their  parts  without  bookes,  but  are  prompted 
by  one  called  the  Ordinary,  who  followeth  at  their  back 
with  the  booke  in  his  hand,  and  telleth  them  softly  what 
they  must  pronounce  allowd.  Which  manner  once  gave 
occasion  to  a  pleasant  conceyted  gentleman,  of  practicing 
a  merry  pranke  :  for  he  undertaking  (perhaps  of  set 
purpose)  an  actor's  roome,  was  accordingly  lessoned 
(beforehand)  by  the  Ordinary,  that  he  must  say  after 
him.  His  turn  came :  quoth  the  Ordinary,  Goe  forth 
man,  and  shew  thyselfe.  The  Gentleman  steps  out  upon 
the  stage,  and  like  a  bad  clarke  in  scripture  matters, 
cleaving  more  to  the  letter  than  the  sense,  pronounced 
those  words  allowd.  Oh,  sayes  the  fellowe  softly,  you 
marre  all  the  play.  And  with  this  his  passion,  the  actor 
makes  the  audience  in  like  sort  acquainted.  Hereon 
the  prompter  falles  to  flat  rayling  and  cursing  in  the 
bitterest  terms  he  could  devise :  which  the  Gentleman 
with  a  set  gesture  and  countenance  still  soberly  related, 
untill  the  Ordinary,  driven  at  last  into  a  madde  rage,  was 
faine  to  give  over  all.  Which  trousse,  though  it  brake 
off  the  Enterlude,  yet  defrauded  not  the  beholders,  but 


io4       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

dissmissed  them  with  a  great  deale  more  sport  and 
laughter,  then  20.  such  Guaries  could  have  afforded." 

The  plan  of  a  huge  Cornish  amphitheatre  for  station- 
ary miracles  is  given  by  Dr.  Borlase  in  his  Natural  His- 
tory of  Cornwall,  published  in  1758.  "  It  exhibits,"  says 
Mr.  Norris,  "a  perfectly  level  area  of  130  feet  diameter; 
this  was  surrounded  by  a  continued  earthern  mound, 
eight  feet  high,  having  seven  turf  benches  on  the  inside ; 
the  top  of  the  mound  or  rampart  was  seven  feet  in  width. 
A  peculiar  feature  of  this  Round  was  a  pit  in  the  area, 
described  as  c  a  circular  pit,  in  diameter  thirteen  feet,  deep 
three  feet,  the  sides  sloping,  and  halfway  down  a  bench 
of  turf,  so  formed  as  to  reduce  the  area  of  the  bottom  to 
an  ellipsis ':  this  hollow  was  connected  with  the  circular 
benches  by  a  shallow  trench,  four  feet  six  inches  wide, 
and  one  foot  in  depth ;  the  length  is  not  given  in  the 
text,  but  the  scale  shows  it  to  have  been  forty  feet : 
where  it  reaches  the  side  a  semicircular  breach  ten  feet 
in  diameter  is  made  in  the  benches.  Borlase  suggests 
that  the  hollow  pit  might  have  generally  served  for 
representing  Hell,  and  that  in  the  drama  of  the  Resur- 
rection it  might  have  served  for  the  Grave.  The  trench 
he  conjectures  to  have  aided  in  representing  the  Ascen- 
sion, but  he  does  not  clearly  shew  how  this  was  done." 

Returning  to  the  vehicle  of  two  stages,  we  find  from 
the  inventory  of  the  Cappers'  pageant  at  Coventry, 
"  The  Resurrection  and  Descent  in  Hell,"  that  the  lower 
portion  (wheels,  etc.)  was  concealed  by  painted  cloths  or 
tapestry  work ;  and  that  Hell-mouth  was  also  of  painted 
canvas  stretched  upon  a  framework.  From  behind  the 
scene  which  represented,  as  in  a  drawing  given  by  Hearne 
from  an  ancient  calendar,1  a  dragon  with  wide-open  chaps, 
1  See  copies  in  Sharp  and  Hone. 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  105 

advanced  the  white  (or  "savyd"),  and  the  black  (or 
"dampnyd")  souls,  as  if  issuing  from  the  insides  of  the 
monster.  The  charge  for  making  a  new  Hell-head  of 
this  kind  in  1542  was  8s.  id.,  and  evidently  one  or  more 
persons  attended  it  to  open  or  shut  the  mouth,  or  to 
display  flames  as  projecting. 

PROPERTIES  AND  EXPENSES 

In  Sharp's  collection  of  accounts  for  the  craft-plays  of 
Coventry,  we  find  payments  for  the  men,  sometimes 
eight,  sometimes  twelve,  who  drew  the  vehicles  from 
station  to  station  ;  also  for  the  drinks  that  they  consumed  ; 
also  for  the  structures  in  which  these  "  pageants  "  were 
housed  between  celebrations,  and  for  the  repair  of  the 
pageants  of  the  various  companies. 

The  Smiths'  Company  of  Coventry  makes  payments, 
between  1449  and  1585,  in  connection  with  its  Pageant 
of  the  Trial,  Condemnation,  and  Crucifixion  of  Christ,  in 
varying  sums  for  such  items  as  the  cross  with  a  rope  to 
draw  it  up  and  a  curtain  hanging  before  it ;  gilding  the 
pillar  and  the  cross ;  two  pair  of  gallows ;  mending  of 
imagery ;  a  standard  of  red  buckram  ;  and  other  prop- 
erties of  like  description.  In  the  matter  of  dress  it  pays  in 
different  years  :  for  six  skins  of  white  leather  for  God's  gar- 
ment, 1 8^.;  for  making  of  the  same  garment,  iod. ;  for 
mending  a  cheverel  (peruke)  for  God,  and  for  sewing  of 
God's  coat  of  leather,  and  for  making  of  the  hands  to  the 
same  coat,  lid. ;  for  a  girdle  for  God,  3^. ;  for  a  new  sud- 
ere  (the  Veronica)  for  God  (i.e.,  Christ),  jd.  For  Herod,  as 
follows  :  for  painting  the  falchion  and  Herod's  face,  lod.  • 
for  mending  of  Herod's  head,  and  a  mitre  and  other 
things,  2J. ;  for  a  slop  for  Herod  ;  for  "  assadyn  "  ( gold- 
foil)  for  Herod's  crest  and  falchion,  etc.  For  Pilate's 


io6       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

wife ;  for  mending  of  dame  Percula's  garments,  'jd. ;  to 
reward  Mistress  Grimsby  for  lending  of  her  gear  for 
Pilate's  wife,  I  id.  The  following  payments,  also,  are  var- 
iously enlightening:  For  refreshment  during  the  second 
rehearsal  in  Whitsun  week,  1490 :  ". . .  Item  in  brede,  Ale 
and  Kechyn  . . .  ij*  iiij  ;  item  for  ix  galons  of  Ale . . .  xviijd  ; 
item  for  a  Rybbe  of  befe  and  j  gose .  .  .  vid.  Payd  to 
the  players  for  corpus  xpisti  daye  :  Imprimis  to  God .  . . 
ij*;  item  to  Caiaphas  iij*iiijd;  item  to  Heroude  iij*iiijd; 
item  to  Pilatt  is  wyffe.  .  .  ij1 ;  item  to  the  Bedull.  .  .  iiijd ; 
item  to  the  devyll  and  to  Judas  xviijd ;  item  to  Pilatte .  .  . 
iiijV  From  which  we  learn  that  the  principal  character 
was  Pilate ;  that  next  to  him  came  Herod  and  Caiaphas ; 
and  that  Christ  and  Judas  were  held  in  lighter  dramatic 
esteem. 

In  what  precedes  some  indication  has  been  made  of 
accoutrements  and  stage  properties.  Characters  were 
particularised  by  dress  as  much  as  by  utterance.  The 
Pilate  of  the  Coventry  Smiths'  play  always  had  a  green 
coat  and  made  use  of  a  mall  and  balls.  His  mall  was  a 
club  with  a  stuffed  head  ( leather  and  wool,  about  a  foot 
and  a  half  long)  which  served  partly  fora  sign  of  au- 
thority but  more  for  beating  his  companions  and 
the  public.  The  balls  were  perhaps  the  insignia  of  office  ; 
but  more  likely,  since  they,  too,  were  of  leather,  they 
served  for  interludes  of  juggling.  The  margin  of  the 
Chester  plays  is  studded  with  stage  directions  such  as 
"  fluryshe,"  "  cast  up,"  "  sworde,"  when  ranting  kings 
like  Balaak  and  Herod  are  on  the  boards.  The  "  caste- 
up  "  is  hardly  of  anything  internal :  it  may  be  of  the  staff 
(sceptre)  or  of  the  balls.  Such  nonsense  seemed  requisite 
to  offset  the  intense  and  unfamiliar  strain  of  gazing  upon 
royalty  even  though  illusionary.  So,  when  the  three  kings 


Pilate's  Club  or  Mall 

From  "A  Dissertation  on  the    Pageants  or  Dramatic  Mysteries 
Anciently  Performed  at  Coventry" 


REPRESENTATION    OF   THE   CYCLES  107 

leave  Herod,  we  can  hear  the  Chester  bumpkins  draw  in 
the  breath  lingeringly ;  and  we  read  in  the  margin  the 
solicitude  of  the  author  or  stage-manager  "  The  boye  and 
pigge  when  the  hinges  are  gone" 

Herod  is  represented  in  helmet  and  painted  visor  or 
mask,  and  an  elaborate  gown  of  blue  satin.  His  helmet 
(or  crest)  and  the  falchion,  probably  borne  before  him, 
are  tricked  with  silver,  gold,  and  green  foil.  In  his  hand 
he  holds  a  sceptre.  Judas  is  distinguished  by  red  hair 
and  beard.  The  devil,  like  Pilate,  has  a  club ;  he  wears 
also  a  mask  and  is  clad  in  leather,  probably  black.  In 
Chester  he  seems  to  have  retained  his  archangelic  feathers, 
but  they  are  "all  ragger  and  rent."  He  sometimes 
enters  with  Ho,  ho,  ho ;  and  in  moments  of  consternation 
cries  Oute,  harrow.  But  few  exclamations  and  still  fewer 
buffooneries  are  assigned  to  him  by  the  miracle-writers 
themselves.  Of  these  the  actor  is  generally  the  inventor. 
Mary  the  Virgin  and  the  "  two  side  Maries "  have 
crowns  (flowered),  and  something  spelled  "  roles," 
which  Sharp  would  like  to  translate  "  pads  over  which 
to  comb  the  hair,"  but — discouraging  second  thought 
—  the  "  roles  "  were  painted  —  and  why  cover  a  "  role  " 
that  had  engrossed  two  whole  pence  in  the  painting? 
For  the  angels  there  are  wings  and  albs,  and  suits  of  gold 
skins  ;  for  God  in  Doomsday,  a  coat  of  leather  and  a  red 
"  sendal  "  or  throne,  and  a  pair  of  gloves.  But  then, 
nearly  everybody  had  gloves ;  even  the  demons  could 
quote  gloves  to  serve  their  purpose,  and  coats  and  hose, 
and  "  points,"  and  a  great  deal  of  hair.  This  play  of 
Doomsday,  by  the  way,  of  the  Drapers  of  Coventry, 
furnishes  an  important  new  item  introduced  in  1556  of 
a  "  yerthequake. "  It  was  composed  of  a  barrel  with 
"  wordys  "  (which  may  mean  "  wards  ")  and  a  pillar  for 


io8      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  wordys,  which  cost  jj.  4^.  This  is  pretty  reasonable 
for  an  earthquake,  as  is  4^.  for  attending  it,  and  id.  for 
covering  it.  It  was  probably  local,  of  merely  eighth  or 
tenth  rank,  and  with  no  lateral  movement.  How  the 
earthquake  was  brought  about,  or  why  they  "  painted 
the  pillar,"  is  not  quite  lucid.  But  we  don't  know  much 
more  about  earthquakes  of  our  own.  The  Drapers  had 
the  advantage  of  us  in  that  they  had  "  worldes  "  not 
simply  to  quake  but  burn,  —  three  of  them  for  every 
year. 

A  good  deal  of  money  is  laid  out  for  music :  trumpets, 
organs,  regals.  Regular  payments  are  also  made  by  all 
companies  for  keeping  the  play-book  or  "  original ; "  and 
for  "bearing"  it  at  rehearsals  and  performances,  —  that 
is,  for  prompting.  Also  for  the  preparation  of  new  copies. 
One  Robert  Croo  at  Coventry,  for  instance,  was  a  famous 
copyist  and  reviser  between  1535  and  1562,  as  well  as 
something  of  actor,  stage-factor,  and  theatrical  tailor. 
Geo.  Bellin,  too,  was  a  copyist  of  Chester  plays ;  and 
John  Parfre  and  Miles  Bloomfield  of  the  Digby  series. 

AUTHORSHIP 

About  the  authors  of  the  plays  we  know  little. 
After  the  miracles  had  reached  cyclic  proportions  and 
passed  under  guild  control,  the  playwrights  were  some- 
times clerks  in  secular  orders,  sometimes  fellows  of 
colleges,  sometimes  country  schoolmasters,  sometimes  im- 
promptu poets  or  poet-actors  of  the  city,  company,  or 
craft.  The  name  even  of  the  jolly  clerk  of  Wakefield 
whom  I  elsewhere  call  the  master-playwright  of  that 
cycle  has  vanished  from  memory.  Concerning  the  au- 
thorship of  the  Chester  plays,  dispute  still  exists ;  but 
the  evidence  for  Randall,  or  Randulf  Higden,  a  monk 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES    109 

of  St.  Werburgh's,  and  for  the~year  1328,  has  recently 
gained  in  weight.  The  probabilities  are  that  his  contri- 
bution was  largely  of  adaptation  and  translation  ;  the 
latter  from  Latin  sources,  and  early  French  mysteries. 
At  Beverley  we  come  across  an  entry  of  payment  in  1423 
to  one  "  Master  Thomas  Bynham,  a  friar  preacher,  for 
making  and  composing  the  banns "  (banes,  announce- 
ments) which  were  proclaimed  before  the  Corpus  Christi 
plays  of  that  year.  But  he  did  not  write  the  plays. 
Lydgate,  who  lived  about  the  same  time  in  the  Benedic- 
tine Abbey  of  Bury  in  Suffolk,  is  said  to  have  written 
miracle  plays ;  but  we  have  no  proof.  At  Lincoln  the 
Chapter  of  the  Cathedral  makes  provision  in  1488  for 
a  certain  Robert  Clarke  because  "  he  is  so  ingenious  in 
the  show  and  play  called  the  Ascension,  given  every  year 
on  St.  Anne's  day."  And  in  1517  Sir  Robert  Denyar  is 
appointed  priest  of  the  Guild  of  St.  Anne  "  he  promising 
yearly  to  help  in  bringing  forth  and  preparing  the  pa- 
gents  in  the  guild."  *  Marriott,2  quoting  Warton,  tells 
us  of  a  payment  for  a  Miracle  Play,  in  151 1,  to  a  brother- 
hood priest,  called  John  Hobarde,  by  the  churchwardens 
of  Basingstoke.  Basingstoke  turns  out,  however,  to  be 
Basingbourne,  and  the  miracle  play  to  be  the  play- 
book,  which  Hobarde  may  merely  have  kept  for  them, 
or  loaned  to  them,  or  copied  for  them.  We  can  only 
hope  that  he  wrote  it.  In  1521,  as  Mr.  Leach  again 
tells  us,  a  Grammar  School  Master  of  Lincoln  suggests 
to  the  mayor  that  a  foundation  be  made  of  a  chantry 
priest  in  St  Michael-on-Hill  to  be  appointed  by  the 
mayor  and  commonalty  after  Dighton's  death  with  a 

1  Leach,  in  Furn.  Misf.,  pp.  225,  226. 

2  Marriott,  Engl.  Mir.  PL,  XLIX  j  Warton,  Hist.  Engl.  Poet.,  Ill, 
327. 


no      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

proviso  that  the  appointee  "  shall  yearly  be  ready  to  help 
to  the  preparing  and  bringing  forth  the  procession  of 
St.  Anne's  day."  This  looks  as  if  Dighton  were  the 
recognised  playwright  and  stage-manager  in  1521.  Still 
later,  in  the  same  century,  another  schoolmaster,  Ralph 
Radcliffe  of  Hitchin,  was  writing  miracle  plays  and  pre- 
senting them  in  a  theatre  contrived  by  himself;  but 
neither  his  plays,  since  they  were  probably  in  Latin,  nor 
the  Jephtha  of  one  John  Christopherson,  in  Latin  and 
Greek,  can  be  regarded  as  within  the  scope  of  our  discus- 
sion. While  the  polemic  Bale  was  Bishop  of  Ossory  he 
wheedled  some  "  protestant  Irishmen  " — more  probably 
young  clerks  and  students  of  his  own  importing  —  into 
presenting  two  of  his  insufferables,  God's  Promises  and 
John  the  Baptist,  at  Kilkenny,  at  the  Market  Cross  —  on 
the  day  of  the  accession  of  Queen  Mary.  The  bishop  had, 
wittingly  or  not,  seized  his  last  chance  for  that  kind  of 
thing;  but  the  Irish  —  the  real  ones  —  in  the  audience 
did  n't  think  much  of  the  performance.  In  1567  another 
schoolmaster,  Thomas  Ashton,  presented  his  own  version 
of  the  Passion  of  Christ  in  the  quarry  at  Shrewsbury ; 
and  in  1584  John  Smythe,  a  Coventry  lad  who  had  been 
a  Scholar  at  St.  John's,  Oxford,  since  1577,  wrote  a  play, 
'The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem,  for  the  crafts  of  Coventry. 
The  latter  was  to  take  the  place  of  the  scriptural  miracles, 
against  which  protestant  reaction  had,  by  that  time,  set 
in.  It  was  based  upon  Josephus,  and  was  played  with 
great  spectacle  and  repeated  as  late  as  1591.  That  was 
the  last  craft-performance  of  Coventry  and  one  of  the 
last  in  England.  The  William  Jordan  who  wrote  the 
Creation  of  the  World,  in  1611,  was  merely  a  compiler  of 
the  older  Origo  Mundi,  and  can  therefore  in  no  sense 
be  regarded  as  a  creator  of  this  kind  of  drama. 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  in 

CONTEMPORARY  ALLUSIONS 

But  though  the  miracles,  like  the  contemporary  bal- 
lads, are  largely  anonymous,  they  are  not  unconsidered 
by  writers  of  contemporary  fame.  Mention  of  miracle 
plays,  or  allusion  to  them,  is  frequent  in  the  literature  of 
Englishmen  from  that  famous  poem  of  William  of  Wad- 
dington  written  in  French  of  the  later  thirteenth  century, 
and  translated  by  Robert  Mannyng  of  Brunne  in  the 
early  fourteenth,  down  to  the  dramas  of  John  Heywood 
and  William  Stevenson,  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson. 
Waddington  denounces  especially  the  participation  of 
clerks  masked  and  disguised,  in  outdoor  representations 
of  sacred  subjects.  These  he  calls  "miracles";  but  he 
approves  of  liturgical  dramas  —  the  Resurrection  or  the 
Nativity  played  in  the  divine  service  in  the  church,  and 
"pur  plus  aver  devocioun."  Denunciation,  even  more 
violent,  still  exists  in  a  sermon,  of  the  later  years  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  which  recognises  no  advantage  in 
acted  plays  of  any  place  or  any  kind.  The  Wyclifite 
author  of  this  homily  holds  that  to  take  "the  most 
precious  workes  of  God  in  play  and  bourde"  is  blas- 
phemy pure  and  simple.  He  applies  the  name  "  miracle- 
playing  "  to  dramas  not  only  of  Christ  but  of  his  saints  ; 
and  he  shows  acquaintance  with  plays  of  Christ's  passion 
and  resurrection,  of  Antichrist  and  of  the  day  of  doom. 
Langland,  likewise,  makes  a  friar  minor,  in  Piers  Plow- 
man s  Crede,  boast 

We  haunten  no  tavernes,  ne  hobelen  abouten ; 
At  marketes  and  miracles  we  meddle  us  never. 

Chaucer,  on  the  other  hand,  has  meddled  with  miracles 
more  than  once  to  make  his  characters  real  and  of  the 


H2      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

spirit  of  the  age.  His  "joly  Absolon  "  of  the  Miller  s 
Tale  is  a  typical  parish-clerk,  who  "  after  the  Schole  of 
Oxenford  "  can  trip  and  dance  and  "  pleyen  songes  on 
a  small  rubible  ";  —  nay  more 

Sometyme,  to  shewe  his  lightnesse  and  maistrye, 
He  pleyeth  Her  odes  on  a  scaffold  hye. 

The  Wife  of  Bath  makes  her 

visitaciouns 

To  vigilies  and  to  processiouns, 
To  preching  eke  and  to  these  pilgrimages, 
To  pleyes  of  miracles  and  manages. 

The 

Miller  that  for-dronken  was  al  pale 
So  that  unnethe  upon  his  hors  he  sat 

had  doubtless  learned  to  rant  at  Corpus  Chris ti  play.  He 
it  was  that  would  not  wait  for  all  the  Host  would  say : 

Ne  abyde  no  man  for  his  curteisye, 

But  in  P Hates  Vois  he  gan  to  crye, 

And  swore  by  armes  and  by  blood  and  bones, 

"  I  can  a  noble  tale  for  the  nones." 

And  this  "  noble  tale"  itself  of  Nicholas  and  the  Carpen- 
ter's wife,  what  is  it  but  a  miracle  turning  on  a  prophecy  of 
"  Nowelis  flood,"  —  a  miracle  suggested  not  by  Genesis  at 
all,  but  by  the  pageant  of  Chester,  York,  or  Wakefield  ? 

"  Hastow  not  herd,"  quoth  Nicholas,  "also 
The  sorwe  of  Noe  with  his  felawshipe, 
Ere  that  he  might e  gete  his  wyf  to  shipe  ? 
Him  had  he  lever,  I  dar  wel  undertake, 
At  thilke  tyme,  than  alle  his  wetheres  blake, 
That  she  hadde  had  a  ship  herself  all  one." 

One  cannot  read  the  Canterbury  Tales  without  suspecting 
that  the  familiarity  displayed  by  the  simpler  character  with 


REPRESENTATION  OF  THE  CYCLES  113 

scriptural  event  and  legend  is  supposed  to  be  derived  from 
plays  rather  than  directly  from  the  services  of  the  church. 

John  Heywood's  Pardoner,  too,  of  the  Four  PP. ,  when 
he  visits  hell  and  is  welcomed  smilingly  by  the  devil 
that  kept  the  gate,  explains  their  odd  acquaintance  in  the 
way  most  obvious  to  his  auditors  — 

He  knew  me  well;  and  I  at  laste 
Remembered  hym  syns  longe  tyme  past : 
For,  as  good  happe  wolde  have  it  chaunce, 
Thys  devyll  and  I  were  of  olde  acqueyntaunce, 
For  oft  in  the  play  of  Corpus  Cristi 
He  had  played  the  devyll  at  Coventry. 

And  the  "  devyll "  himself  may  be  supposed  to  allude 
to  the  opening  play  of  the  cycle  when  he  congratulates 
his  mortal  friend  on  an  opportune  arrival,  —  on  this  the 
anniversary  of  their  Founder, 

For  this  daye  Lucy fer  fell 
Which  is  our  festyvall  in  hell. 

Later  testimony  of  this  kind  is  so  common  that  it  need 
not  be  quoted. 

THE  SPECTATORS 

During  the  palmy  days  of  these  wonderful  represent- 
ations, the  audiences,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  were 
not  limited  to  craftsmen  and  their  families,  or  clerics,  or 
simple  folk  from  the  surrounding  countryside.  Kings, 
queens,  princes,  and  nobles  attended  the  plays  at  Skin- 
ners' Well ;  lords  and  ladies  assisted  sometimes  with 
money,  sometimes  with  the  loan  of  pointed  hose  and 
silken  gowns  and  other  properties.  Henry  V,  Margaret 
of  Anjou,  Richard  III,  Henry  VII  were  present  at  their 
several  convenience  to  grace  the  miracles  at  Coventry. 
Chaucer  and  Lydgate  and  Langland,  and  many  a  less- 
known  man  of  letters,  rubbed  elbows  with  the  crowd.  The 

8 


n4      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

plays  were  at  once  an  advertisement  of  civic  solidarity, 
wealth,  wit,  and  enterprise,  an  incentive  of  literary  culture 
and  amusement,  and  a  vehicle,  longer  effective  than 
dubious,  for  the  conveyance  of  religious  instruction. 
The  utmost  care  was  taken  to  prevent  the  abuses  that 
attend  unwieldy  assemblies.  None  but  those  who  are 
privileged  may  bear  weapons ;  disturbances  are  met  with 
imprisonment  and  fine  ;  dissolute  characters  are  warned 
away  or  violently  ejected  before  the  play-week  begins  ; 
due  provision  is  made  for  the  separate  and  orderly  ob- 
servance of  religious  rites  and  the  collection  of  moneys 
from  the  faithful.  At  first  we  read  of  crowds  "  admiring," 
then  weeping  and  laughing  by  turns.  It  is  not  until 
reason  has  invaded  tradition  that  the  simple  delight,  aes- 
thetic and  devotional,  fades  utterly  away.  Of  course 
there  were,  from  the  beginning,  remonstrances  and  inhi- 
bitions on  the  part  of  the  church.  That  is  an  ancient 
quarrel  between  church  and  stage.  But  in  spite  of 
material  grossness,  ignorance,  crudity,  and  occasional 
irreverence,  the  plays  were  not  without  their  beneficent 
consequences.  A  queer  story  is  handed  down  by  Disraeli 
and  Sharp  of  a  puritanical  vicar  of  Rotherham,  who  once 
happened  to  be  preaching  at  a  place  called  Cartmel  in 
Lancashire,1  toward  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  or  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century.  "The  churches," 
says  he,  "were  so  thronged  at  nine  in  the  morning,  that 
I  had  much  ado  to  get  to  the  pulpit.  One  day  an  old 
man  of  sixty,  sensible  enough  in  other  things,  and  living 
in  the  parish  of  Cartmel,  coming  to  me  on  some  business, 
I  told  him  that  he  belonged  to  my  care  and  charge,  and 
I  desired  to  be  informed  in  his  knowledge  of  religion.  I 

1  From  the  MS.  Life  of  John  Shaw,  in  Disraeli's   Curiosities  /  Sharp, 
P.  53- 


REPRESENTATION   OF   THE   CYCLES  115 

asked  him  how  many  Gods  there  were.  He  said  he 
knew  not.  I,  informing  him,  asked  again  how  he  thought 
to  be  saved.  He  answered  he  could  not  tell :  yet 
thought  that  was  a  harder  question  than  the  other.  I 
told  him  that  the  way  to  salvation  was  by  Jesus  Christ, 
God-man,  who  as  he  was  man,  shed  his  blood  for  us  on 
the  cross,  etc.  '  Oh,  sir,'  said  he,  *  I  think  I  heard  of  that 
man  you  speak  of,  once  in  a  play  at  Kendal,  called  Cor- 
pus Christ's  play,  where  there  was  a  man  on  a  tree,  and 
blood  ran  down,'  etc.  And  afterwards  he  professed  he 
could  not  remember  that  he  ever  heard  of  salvation  by 
Jesus,  but  in  that  play."  Now,  the  plays  had  ceased 
at  Kendal  only  about  the  end  of  the  first  third  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  As  late  as  the  sixteenth,  the  clergy 
seem  to  have  been  in  the  way  of  recommending  them  as  a 
means  of  salvation.  For,  said  a  preacher  (in  the  C  Mery 
Talys  of  1526)  at  the  close  of  a  sermon  on  the  Creed: 
"Yf  you  beleve  not  me,  then  for  a  more  suerte  and 
suffycyente  auctoryte  go  your  way  to  Coventre,  and  there 
ye  shall  se  them  all  playd  in  Corpus  Cristi  play." 

THE  PASSING  OF  THE  MIRACLES 

Because  of  the  expense  incident  to  the  production  of 
the  miracles,  the  gradual  changes  in  the  function  and 
formation  of  town-guilds,  and  the  revulsion  among  reli- 
gious reformers  against  ritualistic  commemoration  of  the 
saints,  and  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Real  Presence  which 
Corpus  Christi  was  designed  to  inculcate,  the  perfor- 
mance of  the  sacred  cycles  begins  in  the  first  half  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  here  and  there,  to  wane  in  frequency, 
magnificence,  and  interest. 

In  Lincoln  in  1540,  several  guilds  are  ordered  to 
restore  their  pageants  which  they  have  for  some  reason 


u6      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

broken ;  soon  after  this  officials  are  scouring  the  country 
for  collections  to  support  the  plays ;  later  the  jewels, 
plates,  and  ornaments  of  St.  Anne's  show  (in  other 
towns,  of  Corpus  Christi)  are  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Common  Chamber.  During  Queen  Mary's  reign  there 
is  a  brief  restoration  of  the  plays ;  but  after  1563  "the 
story  of  Toby  "  is  substituted,  and  even  of  that  no  record 
later  than  1567  remains.1  In  1572  and  1575  the  eccle- 
siastical authorities  of  Canterbury,  York,  and  Chester 
inhibited  the  performance  of  the  Chester  plays ;  but  the 
play-loving  mayors  of  those  years  had  their  way.  Still, 
though  the  plays  in  1575  had  been  revised  to  suit 
modern  religious  taste,  they  were  "  to  the  great  dislike 
of  many,"  ostensibly,  however,  because  they  were  "  in 
one  part  of  the  city."  In  1599  the  mayor,  "a  godly 
zealous  man  .  .  .  would  not  suffer  any  playes,  bear-baits 
or  bull-bait."  The  "  Banes"  were  read  as  late  as  1600  ; 
but  David  Rogers,  in  his  Breviary  of  1609,  thanks  God 
that  1574  (1575  ?)  was  the  last  time  "  the  whitson  playes 
weare  played.  And  we  have  all  cause  to  power  out  oure 
prayeres  before  God,  that  neither  we  nor  oure  posterities 
after  us,  may  never  see  ye  like  abomination  of  desolation 
with  such  a  Clowde  of  Ignorance  to  defyle  with  so  highe 
a  hand  ye  sacred  scriptures  of  God."  2 

In  Coventry  complaint  was  made  of  the  expense  as 
early  as  1539,  but  the  pageants  had  such  vogue  that  they 
were  with  only  occasional  intermission  continued  till 
1580.  Though  some  of  the  pageants  were  sold  in  1586 
and  1587,  the  songs  for  the  Shearmen  and  Taylors  are 
dated,  as  for  production,  1591,  and  the  Weavers  were 
still  able  to  lend  their  stage  properties  in  1607.  By 

1  Leach,  in  Fur  a.  Misc.,  p.  227. 

*  Harl.  MS.  1944;  printed  by  Furnivall,  Digby  Plays,  xviii,  et  stq. 


REPRESENTATION   OF  THE   CYCLES  117 

1628  the  pageants  had  "bine  put  downe  many  yeares 
since."1  In  Newcastle,  after  1578,  the  "ancient"  plays 
of  Corpus  Christi  were  acted  only  on  special  occasions 
and  by  special  command  of  the  magistrates.  In  York, 
from  1535  on,  some  of  the  miracles  were  subject  to 
emendation,  others  to  exclusion.  More  and  more  fre- 
quently moral  plays  like  the  Creed  and  the  Paternoster 
are  substituted.  In  1548  plays  of  Roman  Catholic  tra- 
dition like  the  Assumption  of  Our  Lady  and  her  Coronation 
are  rejected.  Objections  to  the  performances  increase  on 
ground  of  sickness  or  poverty,  or  of  ecclesiastical  dis- 
approval of  their  doctrine.  In  1568  the  play-book 
appears  to  have  undergone  careful  revision  to  suit  Arch- 
bishop Grindal  and  the  Dean  of  York.  It  looks  as  if 
the  plays  were  performed  in  1579  ;  but  no  later  notice  of 
the  kind  remains,  though,  according  to  Miss  Smith,2  the 
Bakers  were  obtaining  rent  for  their  pageant-house  in 
1626,  and  electing  "pageant-masters"  as  late  as  1656. 
Shakespeare,  Jonson,  Massinger,  and  Fletcher  were  then 
long  dead.  Mazarin  had  succeeded  Richelieu,  and  Crom- 
well had  but  two  years  more  to  live.  Descartes  was  gone 
and  Leibnitz  come.  Otway  and  Fenelon  were  three  years 
old,  Newton  fourteen,  and  Dry  den  twenty-five.  Milton 
had  spent  four  years  in  darkness,  and  was  meditating  his 
Paradise  Lost.  In  three  years  Moliere  would  produce  his 
Pr'ecieuses  Ridicules ;  in  four,  Charles  II  would  come  back 
to  his  own ;  in  ten,  Bunyan  would  replace  the  miracles 
with  Grace  Abounding  for  the  Chief  of  Sinners,  and  in  an- 
other decade  yet  with  that  child  of  all  the  mysteries,  the 
best  of  modern  moralities,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress. 

1  Sharp,  Diss.  Cov.  Myst.,  and  Chambers,  II,  358. 
3  Tork  Plays,  xxxvi. 


u8      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER    VIII 
THE   COLLECTIVE   STORY   OF  THE   CYCLES 

IN  the  miracle  plays  of  our  forefathers  the  mirth,  the 
proverbial  philosophy,  the  social  aims,  the  aesthetic  and 
religious  ideals  of  the  middle  ages  still  live  for  us.  At 
first,  as  I  have  shown,  these  plays  existed  as  units,  each 
commemorating  some  episode  in  the  life  of  Christ  or  of 
the  saints,  or  some  important  fragment  of  Old  Testa- 
ment history.  But  gradually  they  coalesced  in  this  town 
and  that  into  a  cycle  or  sequence  (of  anywhere  from  five 
to  fifty  dramatic  compositions),  covering  in  one  vast 
survey  the  whole  of  sacred  history  and  prophecy,  as  told 
in  scripture  and  in  ecclesiastical  legend,  from  the  Fall 
of  the  Angels  to  the  Day  of  Judgment.  The  cycle  of 
York  stands  to  one  of  its  component  pageants  as  the 
minster  itself  to  chapel,  cloister,  nave,  or  crypt.  And 
the  same  simple,  patient,  practical  mystics  built  both 
cycle  and  cathedral.  If  we  would  know  how  our  fathers 
lived  and  dreamed  we  should  study  their  temples  of 
dramatic  verse  as  well  as  their  aspirations  in  stone. 

The  collective  story  of  sacred  plays  falls  readily  into 
five  groups.  The  first  is  that  of  the  Creation  and  of 
Old  'Testament  History.  It  presents  in  kaleidoscopic 
spectacle  God  making  the  angels  and  the  universe, 
Lucifer  and  his  hosts  aspiring  and  descending;  the 
creation  of  Adam  and  Eve,  the  temptation  and  the  ex- 
pulsion from  Paradise ;  the  promise  of  the  Oil  of 


THE   STORY   OF   THE   CYCLES        119 

Mercy;  the  birth  of  the  first  children  of  men;  their 
instruction  in  worship  and  industry ;  then,  the  blood  of 
Abel  crying  from  the  ground,  the  curse  upon  Cain,  his 
wanderings,  and  his  death  like  a  hunted  thing  at  the 
hands  of  Lamech  ;  Adam  in  his  old  age  weary  of  delving, 
and  sick  unto  death,  sending  Seth  to  the  angel  who  keeps 
Paradise  to  obtain  that  Oil  of  Mercy  if  he  may ;  Seth's 
vision  of  the  Tree  in  the  Garden  and  of  the  unborn 
Christ,  and  his  return  to  Adam  with  the  kernels  of  the 
fruit  whence  should  spring  the  wood  of  the  Cross ; 
Adam's  joy,  his  pious  resignation  and  his  death,  and  the 
planting  of  the  holy  kernels ;  Enoch's  walk  with  God ; 
the  corruption  of  mankind,  and  God  repenting  him  of 
his  creation  ;  the  mission  of  Noah,  the  building  of  the 
Ark  and  the  history  of  the  Flood ;  the  meeting  of 
Abraham  and  Melchisedec  ;  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  ;  Jacob 
and  his  wily  mother  cheating  Esau  of  his  birthright  and 
blessing ;  the  wanderings  of  Jacob  and  the  vision  at 
Bethel ;  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  the  plagues,  and  the 
passage  of  the  Red  Sea ;  Moses  and  the  chosen  people 
in  the  wilderness,  the  giving  of  the  laws,  and  the  discov- 
ery of  the  Sacred  Rods  sprung  from  the  "  pippins  "  of 
Seth ;  Balaam  on  his  errand  of  imprecation, 

"  Go  forth,  Burnell,  go  forth,  go ! 
What  the  Devil,  my  ass  will  not  go  ! " — 

the  Angel  in  the  way,  and  Balaam's  prophecy  of  the 
Star  to  come  out  of  Jacob,  the  sceptre  out  of  Israel ; 
then,  the  transplantation  of  the  Holy  Rods  by  David ; 
the  royal  psalmist's  sin  with  Bathsheba ;  Solomon  building 
the  Temple,  and  cutting  down  the  Kingly  Tree,  —  the 
beam  that  the  builders  rejected ;  and  of  that  beam 
Maximilla  prophesying  that  Christ  should  hang  thereon  ; 


120      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  bridge  over  Cedron  ;  and  finally,  the  procession  of 
the  prophets  who  foretell  the  Christ :  Balaam  and  Isaiah, 
—  Jesse,  David,  and  Solomon,  and  chosen  rulers  of  the 
disrupted  kingdom,  —  Jeremiah  and  Jonah  and  Daniel 
and  Micah,  and  other  righteous,  —  a  glorious  pomp 
preceding  the  Dawn,  and  singing  in  many  tones 

Virgo  concipiet 

Et  pariet  filium,  nomen  Emanuel; 
Egredietur  virga  de  radice  Jesse 
Et  fios  de  radice  ejus  ascendet. 

As  the  Processus  Prophetarum  closes  the  prologue  of 
the  cosmic  history,  so  it  also  opens  the  divine  Mystery 
of  the  Atonement.  This  is  itself  a  unit,  but  it  falls  into 
three  dramatic  groups,  —  the  Nativity,  the  Ministry,  and 
the  Passion  of  Christ. 

The  Nativity  casts  its  nimbus  before :  with  the  angelic 
prophecy  of  a  daughter, 

Which  shall  hight  Mary,  and  Mary  shall  bear  Jesus 
Which  shall  be  Savior  of  all  the  world  and  us, 

the  childless  home  of  Joachim  and  Anna  is  glorified. 
The  days  pass,  and  the  promised  maid  is  born.  "All 
in  white  as  a  child  of  three,"  she  mounts  the  steps  of  the 
Temple,  to  be  dedicated  "  to  Godde's  service "  and  to 
chastity.  Then  follow  the  choice  of  a  husband  for  the 
maiden  turned  fourteen,  the  flowering  of  old  Joseph's 
rod,  and  the  betrothal;  the  departure  of  Joseph  from  his 
"  little  bride,"  and  the  fair  one  with  her  virgins  working 
on  the  curtain  for  the  temple  of  the  Lord ;  then,  Gabriel 
on  his  high  embassy,  and  the  Ave  Maria,  gratia  plena, 
Dominus  tecum,  the  visit  to  Elizabeth,  and  the  saluta- 
tion of  the  Mother  of  our  Lord;  then,  Joseph's  return 


THE   STORY   OF   THE   CYCLES        121 

and  his  trouble  about  Mary,  and  the  trial  scene  in  the 
Temple  where,  miraculously,  the  Virgin  is  vindicated  and 
her  detractors  are  put  to  shame ;  next,  royalty  and  the 
palace,  —  Csesar  Augustus  taking  counsel  with  Cyrenius 
against  the  coming  of  the  Child ;  the  Emperor  and  the 
Sibyl,  her  prophecy  of  Christ;  then,  the  riches  of  poverty, 
— the  journey  to  Bethlehem,  the  stable,  the  birth  of  Christ, 
and  the  sign  shown  to  the  midwives ;  Emperor  and 
Sibyl  again,  Christ's  birth  announced  and  the  Emperor 
converted ;  the  shepherds  and  the  star ;  the  Magi  and  the 
star,  and  Herod  on  his  throne;  after  that  the  Temple, 

—  the  purification  of  Our  Lady,  the  presentation  of  the 
Child  and  the  Nunc  dimittis  of  Simeon ;  then,  the  offer- 
ing of  the  Magi ;  Herod  deceived  and  furious,  the  flight 
of  Joseph,  Mary,  and  the  Child  into   Egypt  and  the 
massacre  of  the  innocents ;  again,  the  palace,  and  high 
revel  of  Herod  and  his  knights,  —  to  them  Death  enter- 
ing to  strike,  and  the  Devil  issuing  from  Hell  to  claim 
his  own. 

Here  ends  the  group  of  the  Nativity,  and  the  active 
Ministry  of  Christ  begins :  the  Temple,  and  Christ  with 
the  doctors,  disputing ;  the  baptism  in  the  Jordan ;  the 
mountain  of  temptation ;  the  marriage  in  Cana  of 
Galilee ;  the  transfiguration  ;  the  absolution  of  the  adul- 
teress ;  the  healing  of  the  blind  in  Siloam  ;  the  raising  of 
Lazarus  from  the  dead,  and  the  cure  of  blind  Bartimaeus. 

Then  follows  the  group  of  plays  of  which  the  focus  is 
the  Passion :  the  entry  into  Jerusalem,  and  the  cleansing 
of  the  Temple ;  Jesus  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper 
and  Mary  Magdalen  anointing  him  "aforehand  for  his 
burying  ";  the  conspiracy  of  the  Jews,  the  treachery  of 
Judas,  and  the  Last  Supper ;  the  garden  of  Gethsemane, 

—  the  agony,  the  betrayal,  the  flight  of  the  disciples  ;  the 


122      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

trial  before  Caiaphas,  the  buffeting,  the  denial  of  Peter; 
the  trial  before  Pilate,  and  the  dream  of  Pilate's  wife ; 
the  trial  before  Herod;  the  second  accusation  before 
Pilate,  the  remorse  and  self-murder  of  Judas,  and  the 
purchase  of  the  Field  of  Blood ;  the  condemnation  and 
the  scourging ;  the  recovery  of  the  cross-wood  from  the 
brook  Cedron,  the  forging  of  the  nails  for  the  cross,  and 
the  leading  of  Christ  up  to  Calvary ;  the  ministrations 
of  Simon  the  Cyrenian  and  Veronica;  the  lamentation 
of  Mary  and  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  ;  the  crucifix- 
ion ;  the  casting  of  lots  for  the  seamless  coat ;  the  promise 
to  the  penitent  thief;  and  the  undying  triumph  of  the 
Saviour's  death.  The  miracle,  then,  by  which  the  centu- 
rion receives  his  sight ;  the  descent  from  the  cross,  and 
the  burial ;  the  harrowing  of  hell ;  the  imprisonment  of 
Joseph  and  Nicodemus,  and  the  setting  of  the  watch ; 
the  resurrection,  the  discomfiture  of  the  Jews,  and 
the  release  of  the  prisoners ;  the  angels  —  to  the 
Maries  :  "  Whom  seek  ye  ?  "  (§>uem  quaeritis  in  sepul- 
chro,  Christicolae  ?) ;  the  appearances  of  the  risen  Christ 
—  to  the  Magdalene,  to  the  pilgrims  for  Emmaus,  to  the 
Eleven ;  the  rebuke  to  Thomas,  the  promise  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  the  ascension. 

Here  end  the  passion  plays,  properly  so-called ;  and 
the  last  division  begins,  —  the  History  of  the  Living 
Church :  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  at  Pentecost ;  the 
meeting  of  Veronica  and  Tiberius,  the  conversion  of 
the  Emperor,  the  condemnation  and  death  of  Pilate  ;  the 
ministry  of  the  apostles;  the  death  and  burial,  the  as- 
sumption and  coronation  of  the  Mother  of  our  Lord ; 
the  piety  and  martyrdom  and  miracles  of  the  saints  — 
Paul  and  the  Magdalene,  Christina  and  Catharine,  and  of 
others  a  numerous  host ;  the  miracles  of  Our  Lady  ;  the 


THE   STORY   OF   THE   CYCLES        123 

miracles  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament ;  the  signs  of  Judgment ; 
the  coming  of  Antichrist  and  his  destruction.  —  Dooms- 
day. 

From  this  river  of  history,  ecclesiastical  and  profane, 
of  apocrypha,  apocalypse,  and  legend,  the  mediaeval 
playwrights  of  pageants,  single  or  cyclic,  drew  the  waters 
of  poetic  life.  The  miracles  of  the  saints,  indeed 
(except  one  or  two  of  the  Virgin  and  those  of  St.  Paul 
and  Mary  Magdalene),  and  the  histories  of  certain  Old 
Testament  heroes,  such  as  Daniel  and  Tobit,  are  not  in- 
cluded in  any  of  the  English  cycles ;  but  they  are  in  the 
French.  And  one  and  another  of  them  occurs  in 
independent  form  in  the  annals  of  mediaeval  English 
drama.  I  have  already  mentioned  the  St.  Katharine  of 
Geoffrey,  and  the  Daniel  and  St.  Nicholas  of  the  twelfth 
century  Hilarius.  A  Tobit  was  acted  at  Lincoln  in 
1564  and  1567;  the  Deaths  of  the  Apostles  and  a  play  of 
Sts.  Crispin  and  Crispinianus,  in  Dublin,  in  1528  ;  a  St. 
Meriasek  in  Cornwall;  and  plays  of  numerous  others  — 
St.  James,  St.  Andrew,  St.  Laurence,  St.  Susanna,  St.  Lucy, 
St.  Margaret  —  in  various  places.  It  has  been  recently 
announced  by  Mr.  Chambers  that  the  "dumb  show  of 
St.  George,"  of  which  the  subtle  J.  P.  Collier  says  that 
it  was  presented  by  Henry  the  Fifth  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  Emperor  Sigismund  of"  Almayne  "  was  nothing 
more  than  a  "  soteltie "  or  ornamented  cake ;  but  the 
probability  still  remains  that  many  a  miracle  of  the 
patron  saint  preceded  by  centuries  the  mummings  of  St. 
George  which  obtain  in  England  even  at  the  present 
day.  Plays  of  St.  Paul  and  Mary  Magdalene  form  part 
of  the  Digby  cycle  of  which  I  have  something  later  to 
say ;  and  a  miracle  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  preserved 
in  the  well-known  Croxton  play,  which  was  composed 


I24       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

between  1461  and  1500.  This  latter-day  episode  of  the 
history  of  Christ's  saints  represents  the  desecration  by 
Jews  of  a  wonder-working  wafer,  their  discomfiture  and 
ultimate  conversion,  and  is  a  striking  example  of  the 
transition  from  the  sacred  and  didactic  drama  to  the  real- 
istic and  comic  play  of  contemporary  fife.1 

The  five  groups  of  plays  into  which  the  collective 
miracles,  above  enumerated,  may  be  resolved,  are,  as  we 
have  noticed,  but  three,  in  effect :  that  of  pre-christian 
history  and  legend,  that  of  Christ's  ministry,  and  that 
of  his  church.  Of  these,  the  first  is  the  prologue  to  the 
swelling  theme  of  the  second,  the  essential  drama  of  the 
Atonement  —  God  born  into  the  world ;  living,  suffering, 
dying  for  man  ;  harrowing  hell,  rising  from  the  dead,  and 
ascending  into  heaven;  and  to  that  the  third  is  the  epilogue. 

1  Since  I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  in  my  Beginnings  of  English 
Comedy  (Repr.  Engl.  Comedies,  xxxvii)  on  popular  saints'  plays  and 
"marvels,"  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  that  treatise,  suggesting,  however, 
that  its  material  be  supplemented  by  Mr.  Chambers'  scholarly  study  of 
the  relation  of  folk  dramas,  mummings,  etc.,  to  the  pagan  rites  and 
festivals  of  our  Teutonic  and  Celtic  predecessors. 


ORDER  OF  THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     125 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE   HISTORICAL   ORDER   OF  THE 
ENGLISH    CYCLES 

FROM  the  analogy  of  the  English  dramatic  tropes  and 
offices  and  the  sacred  plays  of  Hilarius,  an  Englishman 
brought  up  in  France  about  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury, we  may  conclude  that  dramas,  so  long  as  acted  in 
the  church,  were  largely,  if  not  wholly,  in  Latin.  Grad- 
ually an  Anglo-Norman  line  or  refrain  slipped  in,  even 
in  case  of  a  church  play ;  and  from  the  end  of  the  four- 
teenth century  on,  liturgical  plays  were  performed  which, 
with  survivals  of  the  Latin,  were  principally  in  English. 
Extra-ecclesiastical  plays,  on  the  other  hand,  were,  at  an 
early  period,  probably  first  in  the  Anglo-Norman,  and 
then  in  the  English.  If  the  traditional  date  of  the 
Chester  plays,  1328,  may  be  credited,  we  have  an  indica- 
tion of  the  still  earlier  use  of  the  vernacular  in  the  miracle 
cycle. 

Of  extant  approaches  to  a  play  in  English,  the  earliest 
is  The  Harrowing  of  Hell,  about  1250,  which  Dr.  Ward 
well  denominates  a  link  between  the  dramatic  dialogue 
and  the  religious  drama.  The  next,  according  to  Pro- 
fessor Ten  Brink,1  is  the  Jacob  and  Esau,  preserved  as 
part  of  the  Towneley  cycle.  Philological  tests  would 
indeed  indicate  for  this  an  early  date  of  composition. 

1  Hist.  Eng.  Lit.,  Vol.  II,  Pt.  I,  244 ;  Vol.  II,  Pt.  II.  274. 


ia6      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Ten  Brink  says  about  1280,  and  he  thinks  it  is  an  inde- 
pendent creation.  I  must  agree  with  Mr.  Pollard  l 
that,  in  style  and  language,  it  is  more  probably  part  of  an 
original  didactic  cycle.  The  Brome  play  of  Abraham 
and  Jsaacy  which  comes  next  in  order  of  production,  is 
undoubtedly  the  basis  of  The  Sacrifice  of  Isaac  in  the 
Chester  cycle,  and  probably  in  an  earlier  version  dates 
from  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century.  The 
Ludus  Fdiorum  Israel,  which  was  performed  at  Cam- 
bridge, perhaps  by  the  guild  of  Corpus  Christiy  in  1350, 
is  not  extant ;  but  we  may  conjecture  that  it  was  akin  to 
the  play  of  the  poltroon  knight  given  by  the  English 
bishops  at  the  Council  of  Constance,  1415,  and  embodied 
in  the  various  cycles  —  best  represented,  however,  by 
Parfre's  Kyllynge  of  the  Children  of  Israeli  in  the  Digby 
manuscript.  These  plays  are  all  on  subjects  employed 
by  the  cycles.  The  Harrowing  may  be  said  to  have  con- 
tributed to  drama  an  element  of  wonder ;  the  two  plays 
next  mentioned  contributed  respectively  elements  of 
realism  and  pathos ;  the  Ludus  Filiorum  in  all  likelihood 
some  quality  of  farce  or  burlesque. 

THE  CORNISH 

Of  the  cycles  composed  in  England  the  Cornish  2  may 
have  been  in  its  original  form  prior  to  the  rest.  It  con- 
sists of  four  plays.  The  Beginning  of  the  World  (  Orig o 
Mundi)  extends  from  the  creation  to  the  death  of  Maxi- 
milla  in  Solomon's  time  for  prophesying  of  the  Christ. 
The  Passion  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ( Passio  Domini] 
covers  the  life  of  Christ  from  the  temptation  to  the  cruci- 
fixion. The  Death  of  Pilate  presents  the  legendary 

1  Towneley  Plays,  p.  xxv. 

1  E.  Norris,  Cornish  Drama,  2  vols.,  1859. 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH    CYCLES     127 

account  of  the  leprosy  of  the  Emperor,  Tiberius :  how 
Tiberius  sent  for  healing  to  the  wonder-working  Jesus 
and  learned  through  Veronica  that  Pilate  had  already 
suffered  that  Physician  to  be  put  to  death ;  how  he  is 
assured  by  her  that  he  may  yet  be  healed  of  his  disease  if 
he  kiss  the  handkerchief  upon  which  the  likeness  of 
Christ's  face  has  been  imprinted ;  how  the  Emperor  is 
healed  and,  at  the  instigation  of  Veronica,  sends  for  Pilate 
to  take  retribution  upon  him  for  the  death  of  Christ; 
how  Pilate  comes  wearing  the  seamless  garment  of  our 
Saviour,  and  how  that  melts  the  wrath  of  Tiberius  into 
love;  how,  at  Veronica's  word,  the  cloth  of  Jesus  is 
stripped  from  Pilate,  and  how,  condemned,  he  betakes 
himself  to  suicide ;  how,  finally,  land  and  water  alike  re- 
fuse to  hold  his  accursed  carcass.  This  Death  of  Pilate 
appears  as  an  insertion  in  the  middle  of  The  Resurrection 
and  Ascension,  which  is  itself  the  concluding  play  of  the 
cycle.  The  manuscript  is  in  Cornish  and,  according  to 
the  editor,  could  not  have  been  made  earlier  than  1400. 
From  an  examination  of  the  references  to  localities  and 
the  formation  of  the  names,  it  appears  that  the  Origo 
Mundi  may  have  been  composed  as  early  as  1300;  and 
the  Resurrection  during  the  second  half  of  the  fourteenth 
century.1  The  latter  date  would  be  indicated  for  the 
Passion  of  our  Lord,  also,  by  the  use  in  its  opening  scene 
of  a  verse-form  closely  approximating  to  the  unique 
nine-line  stanza  of  the  master-playwright  of  Wakefield. 
Of  the  first  of  these  miracles,  the  Origo  Mundi,  a  second 
version  is  preserved  in  William  Jordan's  Creation  of  the 
World,  written  1611.  Its  only  claim  to  consideration  is 
that  it  alone  of  British  cycles  dramatises  the  wanderings 
of  Cain  and  the  life  of  Enoch,  and  is  the  only  associate  of 
1  E.  H.  Pedler,  Appendix  to  Norris,  Cornish  Drama. 


128       PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  Coventry  N-Town  in  presenting  the  subject  of  Cain's 
death.  In  other  respects  Jordan's  play  is  but  a  revision, 
sometimes  adopting  or  imitating,  sometimes  reproducing 
the  Origo  Mundi.  It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  origi- 
nal cycle  was  written  in  the  ecclesiastical  college  of 
Glazeney,  founded  about  1287;  and  probably  by  some 
member  of  the  religious  body  who  himself  was  a  native 
of  Penryn. 

THE  GREAT  CYCLES  :  MANUSCRIPTS  AND  DATES  or 
COMPOSITION 

The  manuscript  of  the  York  plays  appears  to  have 
been  made  1430-40;  that  of  the  Wakefield  (or  so- 
called  Towneley,  from  the  family  which  preserved  it),  after 
the  middle  of  the  same  century.  Most  of  the  manuscript 
of  the  so-called  Ludus  Coventrize  was  written  in  the  year 
1468.  The  manuscripts  of  the  Chester  cycle  were  made  be- 
tween 1591  and  1607,  and  appear  to  be  based  on  a  text  of 
the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  or  the  end  of  the  fourteenth 
century.  In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  written,  no  agree- 
ment has  yet  been  reached  concerning  the  comparative 
age  of  the  four  great  cycles.  The  modernity  of  the  Chester 
manuscripts  discourages  dialectal  investigation,  but  exami- 
nation of  the  language  of  other  cycles  should  be  of  assist- 
ance. The  metrical  tests  have  been  only  partly  applied,  as 
by  Davidson  and  Hohlfeld.  I  know  of  no  richer  field  for 
comparative  study  of  sources,  contents,  vocabulary,  verse, 
and  style  than  that  which  here  remains  to  be  explored. 

According  to  the  tradition  preserved  in  the  prose  proc- 
lamation of  the  cycle  for  1543,  and  copied  in  Bellin's 
manuscript  of  the  cycle,  1600,  the  Chester  plays  were 
"  devised  and  made  by  one  Sir  Henry  Francis  "  during 
the  mayoralty  of  John  Arneway;  that  would  be  between 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     129 

1268  and  1277.  Francis  also  went,  says  the  proclama- 
tion, three  times  to  Pope  Clement  to  obtain  license  for 
the  witnessing  of  the  plays.  According  to  other  Banns, 
written  in  verse  for  a  performance  sometime  between  1551 
and  1572,  they  were  "devised  by  one  Done  Rondall, 
monk  of  Chester  Abbey,"  in  the  mayoralty  of  the  same 
"  Sir  John  Arnway."  It  is,  however,  the  fashion  nowa- 
days to  assign  them  to  a  much  later  date.  Dr.  Ward, 
for  instance,  hesitates  to  place  them  earlier  than  the  be- 
ginning of  the  fifteenth  or  the  end  of  the  fourteenth 
century.  The  fact  that  French  stanzas  occur  in  five 
places  points  either  to  the  use  of  an  original  written  in 
French,  or  to  composition  in  a  period  before  the  French 
had  ceased  to  be  the  language  considered  appropriate,  in 
England,  for  kings  and  courtiers.  If  the  latter  hypothe- 
sis holds,  Dr.  Ward  is  of  opinion  that  the  passages  in 
French  must  have  been  written  before  the  reign  of 
Richard  II.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  plays  are  based 
upon  a  French  original,  it  has  been  shown  by  Professor 
Hohlfeld  to  be  not  at  all  likely  that  they  should  be 
produced  after  other  mediaeval  English  cycles  had  de- 
veloped themselves  independently  of  foreign  models.1 
In  either  case  I  am  persuaded  that  these  passages,  and 
in  general  the  plays  containing  them,  were  written  at  as> 
early  a  period  as  the  older  plays  of  the  York  cycle. 
Pollard 2  dates  the  composition  of  the  Chester  plays 

1  The  plays  which  undoubtedly  show  French  affinities  are  VI,  VIII, 
XI,  XVI,  XVII,  XIX  ;  but  as  Hohlfeld  (Die  altenglischen  Kollektivmis- 
terien,  Anglia,  Vol.  XI)  has  pointed  out,  the  parts  of  VIII,  XI,  XIX 
written  in  the  Chaucerian  stanza  are  probably  additions  by  the  writer  of 
the  Prologue  of  1600.     Professor  Davidson's  suggestion  (English  Mys- 
tery Plays,   p.    130)  of  an   Anglo-Norman  origin   does  not  alter  the 
presumption  of  antiquity. 

2  Engl.  Miracle  Plays,  XXXVI. 

9 


130       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

1340-50.  So,  also,  Ten  Brink.  The  liturgical  quality 
of  certain  parts  and  the  undramatic  and  almost  epical 
quality  of  others,  the  general  prevalence  of  the  didactic, 
the  concatenation  in  the  same  play  of  scriptural  or 
legendary  action  sufficient  for  several  pageants,  the 
crudity  of  technique,  are  a  few  of  the  numerous  con- 
siderations that  may  be  adduced  to  support  as  early  a 
date  for  part  of  the  cycle. 

I  am,  indeed,  of  the  opinion  that  there  is,  in  spite  of 
apparent  anachronism  and  evident  contradiction,  a  soup- 
fon  of  truth  in  one  or  other  of  the  traditions  concerning 
the  still  earlier  origin  of  the  cycle.  A  manuscript  of  the 
cycle  prepared  by  James  Miller  in  1607  l  has  a  note  on 
a  fly-leaf  dated  1628,  which  attempts  to  reconcile  both  of 
the  earlier  accounts.  It  attributes  the  authorship  of  the 
plays  to  "  Randle  Heggenet,  a  monke  of  Chester  Abbey," 
who  also  secured  license  from  Rome  to  have  them  played 
in  the  English  tongue.  The  source  of  this  account  is 
the  same  as  that  of  the  Banns  in  verse  prefixed  by  George 
Bellin  to  his  manuscript  of  the  plays,  of  i6oo,2  and  that 
of  the  Breavarye  of  Chester*  prepared  somewhere  before 
1595  by  Archdeacon  Rogers  and  written  out  by  his  son  in 
1609.  Both  the  verse-Banns  and  the  Archdeacon's  Brev- 
iary fix  Higgenet's  authorship  during  the  mayoralty  of  Sir 
John  Arneway ;  and  the  Breviary  assigns  that  period  to 
1328-9.  Unfortunately  that  date,  while  it  might  corre- 
spond with  Higgenet,  whether  or  not  he  be  the  cele- 
brated Ralph  Higden,  a  monk  in  Chester  Abbey  from 

1  Br.  Mus.  Harl.  MS.  2124.  For  a  scholarly  discussion  of  the  MSS. 
of  the  Ch.  Plays,  see  Dr.  Deimling's  introduction  to  his  E.  E.  T.  S. 
edition. 

8  Harl.  MS.  2013. 

»  Harl.  MS.  1944  in  Furnivall's  Digby  Plays,  XVIII. 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     131 

1299  to  1364,  cannot  suit  Arneway's  term  of  office,  which 
ended  in  1277.  In  the  second  place  this  MS.  of  1607 
proceeds  to  assign  to  Sir  Henry  Francis,  "sometime  a 
monk  of  the  monastery  of  Chester,"  the  credit  of  having 
obtained  from  "  Pope  Clemens  a  thousand  daies  of 
pardon,  etc.,  .  .  .  for  those  who  resorted  peaceably  to 
see  the  playes."  This  attempt  to  reconcile  the  claims 
of  Francis  with  those  of  Higgenet  is  inspired  by  a  state- 
ment in  that  prose  proclamation  of  1543  with  which  this 
consideration  began.  The  date  of  composition  is  there 
fixed  by  the  papal  reign  of  a  Clement  and  the  mayoralty 
of  Arneway.  Since  Clement  IV  was  Pope  from  1265 
to  1276,  and  Arneway  mayor  from  1268  to  1277,  the 
account  has  so  far  the  merit  of  consistency.1  But  no 
Randall  Higgenet  was  monk  of  Chester  Abbey  between 
those  dates.  And  the  chance,  also,  of  connecting  Francis 
with  the  plays  falls  away  ;  for  since  he  was  still  living 
in  1382  —  senior  monk  of  St.  Werburgh's  Abbey  — 
he  was  a  trifle  too  young  to  have  been  making  plays 
or  pilgrimages  in  1276.  If,  however,  the  plays  were 
not  originally  devised  as  early  as  1268-76,  it  is  still 
not  improbable  that  they  were  in  existence  in  1328-29, 
the  date  assigned  by  Rogers.  And  this  supposition  is 
confirmed  by  a  coincidence  recently  discovered  and  an- 
nounced by  Mr.  Leach  and  Mr.  Chambers,  that  the 
mayor  of  Chester  in  1327-29,  was  a  man  of  name 
similar  to  Arneway,  viz.  Ernes  (Erneis,  Herneys).  That 

1  Mr.  Leach  (Furnivall  Misc.,  p.  232)  objects  to  the  authenticity  of 
the  proclamation  of  1533,  as  reported  in  Bellin's  MS.,  that  it  speaks  of 
the  monastery  of  Chester  as  "since  dissolved,"  whereas  that  monastery 
was  not  dissolved  till  1540.  But  the  1533  is  due  to  a  scribal  mistake  in 
copying  the  document,  by  which  it  reads  24  Hen.  VIII,  by  a  slip  for  34. 
Chambers,  Mediaval  Stage,  II,  348,  shows  that  1543-4  is  the  date. 


132       PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

being  so,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  less  known  mayor 
Richard  Herneys  came  to  be  contused  with  his  celebrated 
predecessor,  Erneway,  or  Hernwey.  Herneys'  date  would 
correspond  with  the  prime  of  Randulf  Higden,  who 
wrote  the  great  encyclopaedia,  Polychronicon,  about  1327, 
and  was  monk  of  Chester  Abbey  from  1299  to  I3^4* 
The  authorship  of  Francis  in  1328  is  less  likely.  He 
would  have  been  only  a  youth.  If  there  is  any  truth  in 
the  rest  of  the  tradition,  the  Pope  who  granted  pardon 
to  those  resorting  to  see  the  plays  must  have  been 
Clement  IV,  1265-76,  or  Clement  V,  1305-16,  or 
Clement  VI,  1342-52.  Either  Francis  or  Higden  might 
have  made  the  journeys  to  Rome  after  1328,  finally 
obtaining  the  approval  of  Pope  Clement  VI,  between 
1342  and  1352.  Taking  all  indications  into  account, 
there  is,  therefore,  good  reason  to  believe  that  at  the 
latest  some  of  the  Chester  plays  were  in  existence  dur- 
ing the  first  third  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  that 
the  present  form  of  the  cycle,  with  its  marks  of  occa- 
sional dependence  upon  other  cycles,1  represents,  in 

1  The  Play  of  the  Shepherds,  Chester  VII,  resembles  Wakefield's 
Prima  Pastorum  XII ;  Christ  in  the  Temple,  Chester  XI,  may  be  from 
York  XX  (not  by  way  of  W.,  as  Hohlfeld,  p.  264,  thinks).  The 
speech  of  Jesus  in  Resur,  Chester  XIX,  is  akin  to  W.  XXVI,  XXXVIII, 
etc.  In  my  opinion,  however,  it  does  not  derive  from  that,  but  from  an 
earlier  version  of  the  missing  portion  in  York  XXXVIII  or  from  a  com- 
mon original  in  the  primitive  ab  ab  ab  ab  stanza  which  is  the  stanza  of 
York  VIII  and  the  body  of  the  oldest  York  verse-forms.  Personal 
examination  convinces  me  that  the  Chester  play  on  The  Sacrifice  of 
Isaac  is  borrowed  almost  literally  from  the  Brome  Play  on  the  same 
subject ;  not  from  any  independent  English  or  French,  the  original  of 
both.  Hohlfeld,  who  is  of  the  same  opinion,  conjectures  an  earlier  version 
of  the  Brome  Play,  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  as  the  basis  of 
Chester. 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     133 

general,  a  revision  which  may  have  been  made  about  the 
end  of  the  fourteenth  or  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth 
century. 

The  York  cycle,1  according  to  its  scholarly  editor, 
Miss  Lucy  Toulmin  Smith,  was  composed  between  1340 
and  1350.  Both  Miss  Smith  and  Dr.  Ward  attribute 
the  bulk  of  the  authorship  to  one  hand.  A  study  of  the 
materials,  metres  ( no  less  than  twenty-five,  and  of  different 
quality,  historical  and  technical),  sources,  and  dramatic 
style,  convinces  me  that  the  formative  stage  of  the  cycle 
is  of  a  date  as  early  as  the  first  Chester  plays,  and  that 
the  middle  stage  of  about  1340  to  1360,  and  the  later  to 
about  1400,  had  each  its  distinctive  poet.  But  particulars 
may  be  deferred  to  a  later  chapter. 

The  Wakefield  (Towneley)  plays,  says  Mr.  Pollard 
in  his  introduction  to  the  latest  edition,2  are  built  in  at 
least  three  distinct  stages,  covering  a  period  of  which  the 
limits  were  perhaps  1360  and  1410.  The  portions  be- 
longing to  the  earliest  stage  (part  or  whole  of  ten 
plays),3  written  in  the  metrical  romance  stanza  ridiculed 
by  Chaucer  in  the  Rime  of  Sir  fhopas,  would  appear  to 
him  to  have  been  written  as  early  as  1360.  Their  prim- 
itive character  and  the  fact  that  they  are  independent  of 
the  corresponding  portions  of  the  York  cycle,  in  the 
middle  stage,  may  indeed  indicate  a  period  of  composition 
as  early  as  1340-50.  The  original  didactic  cycle,  as  Mr. 
Pollard  calls  it,  was  supplemented  in  the  succeeding  period 
by  influence  from  York.  During  this,  the  second  stage, 

1  York  Mystery  Plays,  Oxford,  1885. 

2  By  Geo.  England,  E.  E.  T.  S.,  Extra  Series  LXXI. 

8  I,  IV,  V,  VII,  IX,  XI,  and  parts  of  X,  XVII,  XXIII,  XXVIII. 


134       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  playwrights  of  Wakefield  borrowed  from  the  York 
cycle  five  plays,  and  adapted  three.1 

In  the  third  stage  the  hand  of  a  genius  is  evident.  That 
his  contributions  were  only  slightly  later  than  those  of 
the  second  stage  would  appear,  not  only  from  internal 
evidence  (metrical  and  linguistic),  but  from  a  variety  of 
historical  considerations.  To  the  allusions  concerning 
dress  cited  by  the  Surtees  editor,  which  would  indicate  a 
date  between  1390  and  1420,  Mr.  Pollard  adds  confirm- 
atory material.  He  thinks,  however,  and  with  reason, 
that  "  in  a  writer  so  full  of  allusions,  the  absence  of  any 
reference  to  fighting  tends  to  show  that  the  plays 
were  not  written  during  the  war  with  France,  and  thus 
everything  seems  to  point  to  the  reign  of  Henry  IV  as 
the  most  likely  date  of  their  composition.  The  date  of 
our  text  is  probably  about  half  a  century  later.  But  the 
example  of  the  York  plays  shows  us  that  in  its  own 
habitat  the  text  of  the  play  could  be  preserved  in  tolerable 
purity  for  a  longer  period  than  this.  In  the  direction  of 
popular  treatment  it  was  impossible  for  any  editor,  how- 
ever much  disposed  towards  tinkering,  to  think  that  he 
could  improve  on  the  playwright  of  the  nine-line  stanza 
(in  which  are  written  the  best  portions  of  the  Wakefield 
cycle),  while  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  hold  of 
these  plays  on  the  Yorkshire  audience  was  sufficiently 
strong  to  resist  the  intrusion  of  didactics."  To  these 
considerations  I  would  add  that  the  Herod's  ironical  and 
easy  disposal  of  the  Papal  Chair  in  Wakefield  XVI  is 
eminently  appropriate  to  the  period  of  Pr<emunire,  1392, 
and  that  the  shepherd's  complaint  of  "  gentlerymen  "  in 

1  Borrowed  —  VIII,  XVIII,  XXV,  XXVI,  XXX.  Adapted  —X, 
XIV,  XV.  Still  others,  like  IV,  XIX,  XXVII,  would  seem  to  be 
based  upon  early  alternatives  of  Y.  plays,  discarded  about  1340. 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     135 

the  Secunda  fits  very  well  the  decade  on  either  side  of 
Wat  Tyler's  rebellion. 

Objections  to  the  attribution  of  this  cycle  to  Wake- 
field  I  cannot  stay  to  consider.1  The  only  definite 
evidences,  the  appearance  of  "  Wakefield  "  and  "  Ber- 
kers"  at  the  head  of  the  first  pageant,  "Wakefield"  at 
the  head  of  the  third,  and  the  references  to  crafts  as 
playing,  are  for  Wakefield.  There  is  no  authority  for 
Woodkirk  or  Widkirk,  or  Nostel  or  Whalley.  The 
topographical  allusions  are  suitable  to  Wakefield ;  and 
that  Wakefield  players  sometimes  assisted  in  the  York 
plays,  to  which  the  Towneley  MS.  is  deeply  indebted, 
is  well  known. 

Since  the  guilds  of  Coventry  had  their  own  miracle 
plays,  two  of  which,  the  Shearmen  and  Taylors'  Pageant 
from  the  Annunciation  to  the  Flight  into  Egypt,  and  the 
Weavers'  Pageant  of  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple, 
are  still  extant,  —  and  since  we  have  numerous  munici- 
pal and  guild  records  of  the  co-operation  of  these  and 
other  crafts  in  the  production  of  the  Coventry  plays  of 
Corpus  Christi,  all  the  way  from  1392  to  1591,  —  the 
temptation  is  strong  to  assign  the  distinct  cycle,  edited 
by  Halliwell  for  the  Shakespeare  Society  in  1841,  under 
the  name  of  Ludus  Coventrize  to  some  entirely  different 
origin.  For  not  only  was  Coventry  already  supplied 
with  a  collective  series  of  its  own,  the  dialectal  and  scribal 
peculiarities  of  the  series  called  Ludus  Coventrize  are  pro- 
nounced by  philologists  to  be  not  those  of  Warwick- 

1  See  Skeat,  The  Locality  of  the  Towneley  Plays  {Athenaum,  3449, 
Dec.  2,  1893);  Pollard,  Introduction  to  the  Towneley  Plays,  1897  ; 
M.  H.  Peacock,  The  Wakefield  Mysteries  (4ng/iaXXlV,  509);  Bunzen, 
Zur  Kritik  d.  Wakefield  Mysterien  (Diss.),  Kiel,  1903. 


136       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

shire  at  all.  Professor  Ten  Brink,  indeed,  assigns  them 
to  the  counties  northeast  of  the  Midlands,  and  Mr. 
Pollard  adds  good  reasons  for  that  conclusion.  If,  by 
any  chance,  they  were  originally  a  craft-cycle,  they  might 
better  be  regarded  as  the  lost  play-book  of  some  such 
town  as  Lincoln.  For,  in  the  Lincoln  craft-plays  there 
was  always  ecclesiastical  co-operation,  and  especial  em- 
phasis was  laid  upon  the  romance  of  the  Virgin :  char- 
acteristics which  mark  the  so-called  Ludus  Coventri*. 

The  subsequent  performance  of  the  series  one  is 
tempted  to  assign  to  strolling  players,  because  in  the 
only  extant  manuscript,  that  of  1468,  the  performance  is 
announced  not  by  the  customary  municipal  Banns,  but 
by  verses  placed  in  the  mouths  of  three  vexillatores, 
banner-bearers,  or  what  we  might  call  sandwich-men, 
apparently  advertising  their  wares.  The  stanza  assigned 
to  the  last  of  these  closes : 

A  Sunday  next,  yf  that  we  may, 

At  vi  of  the  belle  we  ginne  our  play, 

In  N Towne,  wherefore  we  pray 

That  God  now  be  youre  spede.  Amen. 

This  would  suggest  that  the  plays  were  given  from 

town  to  town,  the  N ,  or  Nomen,  of  the  town  being 

filled  in  with  the  designation  suitable  to  the  occasion. 

These  suppositions  are  reconcilable,  if  we  assume  that 
after  the  play-book  ceased  to  be  used  by  such  a  town  as 
Croxton,  Lincoln,  or  Norwich,  it  passed  into  the  hands  of 
professional  actors  sufficiently  skilful  to  revise  and  supple- 
ment the  text,  from  time  to  time,  according  to  need. 

But  we  must  reckon  with  the  fact  that  when  the 
manuscript  already  inscribed  "  The  plaie  called  Corpus 
Christi,"  passed  into  the  possession  of  Sir  Robert  Cotton, 
about  1630,  his  librarian,  Dr.  Richard  James,  made  this 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH    CYCLES     137 

note  in  Latin  on  the  flyleaf:  "  Materials  of  the  New 
Testament  in  dramatic  form  as  they  used  to  be  acted 
formerly  by  monks  or  mendicant  friars :  this  book  is 
commonly  called  Ludus  Coventrize  (the  Coventry  Play) 
or  Play  of  Corpus  Christi ;  it  is  written  in  English 
metres."  Also  that  Dugdale,  the  historian  of  Warwick- 
shire, writing  in  1656,  said  that  the  plays  of  this  very 
manuscript  were  acted,  before  the  suppression  of  the 
monasteries,  by  the  Franciscans,  or  Grey  Friars  of 
Coventry ;  and  that  he  himself  had  been  "  told  by  some 
old  people  who  in  their  younger  years  were  eye-witnesses 
of  these  Pageants  so  acted,  that  the  yearly  confluence  of 
people  to  see  that  shew  was  extraordinarily  great,  and 
yielded  no  small  advantage  to  the  City."  The  Coventry 
Annals •,  also,  contain  an  entry  of  the  year  1492—3,  which 
records  that  "  this  year  the  King  came  to  se  the  playes 
acted  by  the  Gray  Friers,  and  much  commended  them." 
Such  items  look  like  fairly  conclusive  evidence  in  favour 
not  only  of  Coventry  as  the  locality,  but  of  the  Francis- 
cans as  the  actors  of  the  disputed  cycle.  Not,  however, 
if  we  note  the  following  particulars  :  (i)  Dr.  James  does 
not  say  that  the  book  is  correctly  called  the  Ludus 
Coventrize.  He  is  careful  to  say  it  is  "  commonly  "  or 
"  traditionally  "  so-called  —  vulgo  ;  and  he  adds  the  gen- 
eral, self-evident  title  under  which  the  book  had  reached 
his  hand,  Ludus  Corporis  Christi.  (2)  If  his  information 
regarding  the  history  is  to  be  gauged  by  his  accuracy  in 
other  respects,  it  is  not  worth  much,  for  he  tells  us  that 
the  contents  are  of  the  New  Testament.  That  state- 
ment would  apply  to  such  plays  of  Coventry  as  we  know 
to  have  been  given  by  the  crafts ;  but  the  manuscript 
under  the  Doctor's  hand  was  of  Old  as  well  as  of  New 
Testament  subjects.  (3)  The  people  who  told  Dugdale, 


ij8       PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

somewhere  between  1620  and  1650,  that  they  had  seen 
these  plays,  were  speaking  of  the  craft  plays,  not  of  plays 
given  by  monks  in  Coventry.  For  the  Grey  Friars  of 
Coventry  had,  by  1620,  been  dissolved  eighty-two  years; 
whereas  the  craft  plays  had  been  continued  to  be  acted 
till  within  twenty-five  years  of  Dugdale's  birth  in  1605. 
(4)  The  source  of  Dugdale's  information  about  the  Grey 
Friars,  namely  the  dnnals,  is  untrustworthy,  for  they 
were  not  written  up  until  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  (5)  The  words  "by  the  Gray  Friers"  may, 
after  all,  mean  only  that  the  pageant  which  so  pleased 
King  Henry  VII  was  set  up  near  the  house  of  the 
Franciscans.1 

There  is  no  other  reference  in  the  records  —  whether 
Annals,  Leet-Book,  or  Accounts  of  the  Companies  —  to 
the  participation  of  Friars  of  any  colour  in  the  dramatic 
history  of  Coventry.  So  far  as  nomadic  performances 
go,  they  are  more  likely  to  have  been  undertaken  by 
professional  actors. 

Wherever  the  cycle  originated,  —  and  probably  not  at 
Coventry,  —  its  ecclesiastical  flavour,  as  Dr.  Ward  has 
said,  indicates  the  influence  of  ecclesiastical  minds.  Such 
influence  was  more  likely  to  have  been  exerted  during 
the  period  of  original  composition  and  by  the  secular 
clergy  of  the  town,  than  in  the  days  of  nomadic  repre- 
sentation. Professor  Hohlfeld,2  indeed,  shows  that  in 
certain  of  the  plays  the  so-called  Ludus  Covenfri*,  or,  as 
I  would  call  it,  N-Town  collection,  bears  a  closer  relation 
than  any  other  cycle  to  the  liturgical  drama.  While, 
then,  its  composition  may,  in  general,  be  assigned  to  the 
first  half  of  the  fifteenth  century,  some  parts  of  the  cycle 

1  See  Chambers,  II,  420  ;  Sharp's  Dissertation,  p.  218. 
1  Die  altengliicben  Kollektivmisterien,  Anglia  XI. 


Devil  with  Hammer,  from  a  Fresco  at  Stratford-upon-Avon 

From  "A  Dissertation  on  the  Pageants  or  Dramatic  Mysteries 
Anciently  Performed  at  Coventry" 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH   CYCLES     139 

appear  to  be  of  much  earlier  date.  Hohlfeld  says  that,  like 
the  York  plays,  this  cycle  shows  no  signs  of  borrowing 
from  other  cycles.  That,  however,  is  more  than  doubt- 
ful. The  manuscript  being  comparatively  modern,  the 
cycle  displays  frequent  elaborations  of  a  more  recent  date 
than  any  in  the  York  and  the  Wakefield.  I  have  de- 
tected resemblances  to  the  Chester  and,  in  occasional 
phrases  and  lines,  to  the  York,  which  can  hardly  be 
explained  otherwise  than  as  derivative.  The  portions  of 
the  Chester  and  N-Town  cycles  which  are  derived  from 
the  Old  Testament  are,  in  general,  of  prior  date  to  the 
rest  of  those  cycles  and  to  the  York  and  Wakefield. 
But  the  rest  of  the  N-Town  should  be  assigned  to  a 
date  later  than  that  of  the  other  cycles. 

THE  DIGBY  AND  OTHER  PLAYS 

Of  another  collection  called  the  Digby,1  after  the 
Bodleian  manuscript  in  which  it  is  contained,  not  much 
of  historical  value  is  known.  These  plays,  the  Conver- 
sion of  St.  Paul,  the  St.  Mary  Magdalen,  the  Massacre  of 
the  Innocents,  and  the  Morality  of  the  Wisdom  that  is 
Christ,  date  from  the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  century 
and  were  acted,  probably,  in  several  little  towns  of  the 
Midland  counties.  Accidentally  included  in  a  common 
manuscript  of  the  early  sixteenth  century  they  are,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Massacre,  not  components  of  any 
cycle.  That  play,  however,  as  we  know  from  its  pro- 
logue, is  one  of  a  series  covering  the  Nativity,  the 
Magi,  Herod  and  the  Innocents,  the  Flight  into  Egypt, 
the  Death  of  Herod,  the  Purification  of  Mary,  and  the 
Disputation  with  the  Doctors,  of  which  the  representa- 
tion ran  through  several  years  and  was  set  for  St.  Anne's 

1   Digby  Mysteries,  edited  by  Furnivall  (New  Sbakesp.  Soc.  VII,  I). 


i4o       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Day.  Of  the  Digby  plays  and  certain  fragmentary  cycles 
like  that  of  Newcastle  (about  1426),  further  mention 
will  be  made  when  we  come  to  consider  their  dramatic 
quality.  Of  the  Newcastle  there  is  preserved  only  the 
Shipwrights'  Play  of  Noah's  Ark.  The  manuscript,  now 
lost,  was  of  about  1426.* 

Of  the  Beverley  Corpus  Christiy  though  it  has  not 
survived,  numerous  details  are  preserved,  and  have 
been  published  by  Mr.  A.  F.  Leach.2  There  were,  in 
1390,  thirty-eight  pageants;  in  1520,  thirty-six;  and 
they  were  still  in  presentation  during  the  first  half  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  They  covered  much  the  same 
field  as  those  of  York,  though  not  so  minutely  ;  they 
added,  however,  like  the  Cornish  cycle,  the  play  of  Adam 
and  Seth.  In  the  municipal  records  of  Lincoln,  too, 
frequent  mention  is  made  of  miracle-plays  from  the  year 
1244  on;  the  names  of  seven  of  the  most  essential  sur- 
vive, and  the  regulations  by  which  each  of  the  crafts  was 
bound  to  provide  its  pageant.  These  are  denominatedj 
as  in  other  towns,  Corpus  Christi  plays,  and  they  seem  to 
have  constituted  a  cycle.  Mr.  Leach  has  shown,  how- 
ever, that  they  were  probably  played  on  St.  Anne's  Day 
(July  26),  and  we  note  that  their  special  feature,  as  of 
the  N-Town  plays,  was  the  adoration  of  the  Virgin.  In 
London  a  cosmic  cycle,  now  entirely  lost  but  probably 
the  largest  and  most  elaborate  of  all,  was  acted  at  Skin- 
ners' Well.  In  1378  and  1391  it  is  called  the  History  of 
the  Old  Testament.  In  the  latter  year  it  lasted  four  days ; 
also  in  1409,  when  it  is  recorded  to  have  continued  the 

1  Printed  in  1736  by  Bourne  in  his  History  of  Newcastle.  Reprinted 
by  Sharp,  Dissertation  on  Coventry  Mysteries ;  Brotanek,  Anglia  XXI, 
165. 

3  Beverley  Town  Documents,  and  in  Furnivall  Misc. 


ORDER   OF   THE   ENGLISH    CYCLES     141 

drama  to  the  day  of  Judgment.  In  1411  it  lasted  a 
whole  week,  and  was  attended  by  the  "  moste  parte  of  the 
lordes  and  gentylles  of  Ynglond."  In  Norwich,  also, 
there  was  a  cycle,  in  1527,  dating  probably  from  1478  or 
earlier,  and  representing  scriptural  events  between  the 
Creation  and  Pentecost.  It  consisted  of  but  twelve  plays ; 
but  it  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  one  English  cycle 
to  dramatise  the  conflict  of  David  and  Goliath.  There 
survives  only  the  Grocers'  Pageant  of  The  Creation  of 
Eve  with  the  expelling  of  Adam  and  Eve  out  of  Paradise.1 

The  Dublin  plays  can  hardly  be  called  a  cycle;  they 
represented,  to  be  sure,  the  stories  of  Adam  and  Eve,  of 
Joseph  and  Mary,  of  the  passion,  and  of  the  deaths  of 
the  apostles ;  but  they  included,  with  a  somewhat  ludi- 
crous catholicity  of  aesthetic  appeal,  the  story  of  Crispin 
and  Crispinianus,  the  adventures  of  Bacchus  and  of 
Vulcan,  and  the  Comedy  of  Ceres,  —  presented,  appro- 
priately enough,  by  the  shoemakers,  the  vintners,  the 
smiths  and  the  bakers,  respectively.  The  same  happy 
disregard  of  convention  is  displayed  in  the  sequence  of 
floats  listed  for  the  Corpus  Chris ti  procession  of  1498, 
where  it  is  arranged  that  Moses  and  the  Israelites  shall 
accompany  Mary  and  the  Child,  and  Joseph  leading  the 
camel,  down  to  Egypt;  where  Arthur  and  his  knights 
are  interposed  between  the  pageant  of  Annas  and  Caiaphas 
and  that  of  the  twelve  apostles;  while  the  Nine  Worthies, 
and  St.  George  and  the  dragon,  bring  up  the  rear. 

COMPARATIVE  SCOPE 

Of  the  comparative  scope  of  the  principal  cycles  a 
few  words  may  here  be  said.  In  the  York  there  are 
forty-eight  plays ;  in  the  N-Town,  forty-two ;  in  the 

1  In  Manly 's  Specimens  of  the  Pre-Sbakespearean  Drama,  1897, 1,  i. 


i42       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Wakefield,  thirty ;  and  in  the  Chester,  twenty-five. 
The  tetralogy  of  Cornwall  is  not  subdivided  into  minor 
pageants.  These  collections  coincide  in  dramatising,  in 
some  manner,  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  the  creation  and  fall 
of  man,  the  murder  of  Abel,  the  flood,  and  the  sacrifice 
of  Isaac;  and  in  emphasising  the  series  of  events  begin- 
ning with  Christ's  entry  into  Jerusalem  and  ending  with 
the  Ascension. 

The  Cornish  develops  with  especial,  one  might  say 
with  unique,  fondness,  the  legendary  history  of  the 
cross-wood.  It  alone  of  the  collections  extant  drama- 
tises Seth's  mission  to  Paradise,  the  death  of  Adam,  the 
life  of  Enoch,  Moses  and  the  holy  rods,  David's  dis- 
covery of  the  rods,  the  planting  of  the  King's  tree  and 
the  building  of  the  temple,  the  martyrdom  of  Maximilla 
and  the  institution  of  the  bridge  over  Cedron,  the 
bringing  of  the  cross  from  Cedron,  and  the  refusal  of 
the  smith  to  make  the  nails  for  it.  The  cycle  is  unique 
also  in  the  presentation  of  the  imprisonment  of  Joseph 
and  Nicodemus,  the  death  of  Pilate,  and  the  cure  and 
conversion  of  Tiberius  by  Veronica.  And  the  story  of 
David's  love  for  Bathsheba  finds  a  dramatic  devel- 
opment unattempted  by  any  of  the  cycles  written  in 
English.  While  the  Cornish  tetralogy  abounds  in 
realistic  allusions  to  villages  and  manors  in  the  gift  of 
the  diocese,  to  which  we  find  elsewhere  no  parallel,  and 
in  a  certain  rude  ribaldry  applicable  to  the  persons  acting, 
it  indulges  but  sparingly  in  the  humorous  treatment  of 
biblical  characters  and  episodes.  The  stories,  for  instance, 
of  Cain  and  Abel,  and  of  the  flood,  which  in  other 
cycles  afford  material  for  divers  twists  of  comic  inge- 
nuity, are  presented  with  no  suggestion  of  aught  but 
their  traditional  and  serious  import.  The  tetralogy  omits 


ORDER   OF   THE    ENGLISH    CYCLES     143 

altogether  the  pivotal  play  of  the  prophets,  the  miracles 
investing  the  nativity  and  the  youth  of  Christ,  and  the 
romance  of  the  Virgin.  Of  history  succeeding  the  As- 
cension it  has  nothing  ;  and  of  the  life  of  Christ  before 
the  entry  into  Jerusalem,  only  the  temptation  in  the 
wilderness. 

The  English  cycles,  on  the  other  hand,  though  they 
differ  in  their  respective  selection  of  incidents,  omit  none 
of  the  main  divisions  of  sacred  history.  The  N-Town 
plays,  like  the  Cornish,  are  characterised  by  a  predilec- 
tion for  the  legendary ;  but  they  choose  for  peculiar 
elaboration  the  apocryphal  events  of  the  new  dispensa- 
tion,—  the  miraculous  youth,  motherhood,  passion,  and 
glorification  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  The  Chester  cycle, 
like  the  N-Town,  condenses  the  Old  Testament  history 
into  one-fifth  of  the  whole ;  like  the  Cornish,  it  omits  the 
procession  of  the  prophets,  but  it  substitutes  the  proph- 
ecy of  Balaam  ;  and  it  retains  more  of  his  story  and 
of  the  life  of  Adam,  and  of  the  signs  of  Judgment  and 
the  legend  of  Antichrist,  than  either  the  N-Town  or 
its  congeners  of  Wakefield  and  York.  These  two,  York 
and  Wakefield,  follow  the  scriptural  narrative  more 
closely,  and  with  more  discriminating  selection  than  the 
rest:  the  former  treating  particularly  of  the  ministry  of 
Christ  and  adding  the  marvels  after  Pentecost ;  the  latter 
supplying  with  realistic  detail,  original  and  sometimes 
grewsome  characterisation,  and  superabundant  humour, 
what  it  discards  of  the  material  of  tradition. 


144       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   DRAMATIC   DEVELOPMENT   OF  THE 
ENGLISH   CYCLES 

THE  EARLY  INFUSION  OF  THE  COMIC 

WHEN,  after  the  reinstitution  of  the  festival  of  Corpus 
Christi  in  1311,  the  miracle  plays  began  in  England  to 
be  a  function  of  the  guilds,  their  secularisation,  even 
though  the  clerks  still  participated  in  the  acting,  was  but 
a  question  of  time  ;  and  the  injection  of  crude  comedy 
was  a  natural  response  to  the  civic  demand.  Indeed,  if 
we  consider  comedy  in  its  higher  meaning  as  the  play 
of  the  individual  achieving  his  ends,  not  by  revolt,  but 
by  adjustment  to  circumstance  and  convention,  the 
miracle  play,  as  I  have  elsewhere  said,1  was  in  its  essence 
a  preparation  for  comedy  rather  than  tragedy.  For 
the  theme  of  these  dramas  is,  in  a  word,  Christian  :  the 
career  of  the  individual  as  an  integral  part  of  the  social 
organism,  of  the  religious  whole.  So,  also,  their  aim: 
the  welfare  of  the  social  individual.  They  do  not  exist 
for  the  purpose  of  portraying  immoderate  self-assertion 
and  the  vengeance  that  rides  after,  but  the  beauty  of 
holiness  or  the  comfort  of  contrition.  Herod,  Judas, 
and  Antichrist  are  foils,  not  heroes.  The  hero  of  the 
miracle  seals  his  salvation  by  accepting  the  spiritual  ideal 
of  the  community.  These  plays,  accordingly,  contribute 
in  a  positive  manner  to  the  maintenance  of  the  social  or- 

1  Representative  English  Comedies,  p.  xxi. 


DRAMATIC   DEVELOPMENT          145 

ganism.  The  tragedies  of  life  and  literature,  on  the  other 
hand,  proceed  from  secular  histories,  histories  of  person- 
ages liable  to  disaster  because  of  excessive  peculiarity,  — 
of  person  or  position.  Tragedy  is  the  drama  of  Cain,  of 
the  individual  in  opposition  to  the  social,  political,  di- 
vine ;  its  occasion  is  an  upheaval  of  the  social  organism. 
The  dramatic  tone  of  the  miracle  cycle  is,  therefore, 
determined  by  the  conservative  character  of  Christianity 
in  general ;  the  nature  of  the  several  plays  is,  however, 
modified  by  the  relation  of  each  to  one  or  other  of  the 
supreme  crises  in  the  biblical  history  of  God's  ways  toward 
man.  The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  emphasises  not 
the  weeping  of  a  Rachel,  but  the  joyous  escape  of  the 
Virgin  and  the  Child.  In  all  such  stories  the  horrible 
is  kept  in  the  background  or  used  by  way  of  suspense 
before  the  happy  outcome,  or  frequently  as  material  for 
mirth.  The  murder  of  Abel  gradually  passes  into  a 
comedy  of  the  grotesque.  Upon  the  sweet  and  joyous 
character  of  the  pageants  of  Joseph  and  Mary  and  the 
Child  we  shall  in  due  course  dwell.  They  are  of  the 
very  essence  of  comedy.  Indeed,  it  must  be  said  that 
in  the  old  cycles  the  plays  surrounding  even  the  Cruci- 
fixion are  not  tragedy;  they  are  specimens  of  the  serious 
drama,  of  tragedy  averted.  The  drama  of  the  cross  is  a 
triumph.  In  no  cycle  does  the  consummatum  est  close 
the  pageant  of  the  Crucifixion ;  the  actors  announce,  and 
the  spectators  believe,  that  this  is  "  Goddis  Sone,"  whom 
within  three  days  they  shall  again  behold,  though  he  has 
been  "  nayled  on  a  tree  unworthilye  to  die." 

But  though  the  dramatic  edifice  constructed  by  our 
mediaeval  forbears  is  generally  comedy,  it  is  also  divine. 
And  not  for  a  moment  did  these  builders  lose  their 
reverence  for  the  House  Spiritual  that  was  sacred,  nor 

10 


146       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

once  forget  that  the  stones  which  they  ignorantly  and 
often  mirthfully  swung  into  strange  juxtaposition  were 
themselves  hewn  by  Other  Hands.  The  comic  scenes 
of  the  English  Miracle  should,  therefore,  be  regarded 
not  as  interruptions  to  the  sacred  drama,  nor  as  inde- 
pendent episodes,  but  as  counterpoint  or  dramatic  relief. 
Regarding  the  plays  as  units,  we  may  discover  in  one, 
like  the  beautiful  Brome  play  of  Abraham  and  Isaac,  or 
its  allied  pageants  of  Chester,  York,  and  Wakefield,  a 
preponderance  of  the  pathetic  ;  in  another,  like  the  York 
or  the  Wakefield  Scourging  of  Christy  a  preponderance  of 
the  horrible;  in  the  Joseph  and  Mary  plays  of  the 
Ludus  Coventrize  a  preponderance  of  the  romantic,  and 
so  on.  But  when  we  regard  them  as  interdependent 
scenes  of  the  cycles  to  which  they  might,  or  do,  belong, 
the  varied  emotional  colours  blend :  indigo,  gamboge, 
vermilion  producing  an  effect,  gorgeous  —  sometimes  dis- 
quieting, but  always  definite.  Not  only  definite,  but  ho- 
mogeneous and  reposeful,  when,  in  moments  of  historic 
vision,  the  tints  grow  misty,  subliminal,  and  all  is  moss- 
green,  lavender,  or  grey,  —  as  when  with  self-obliteration 
one  contemplates  the  stained  glass  window  of  a  mediaeval 
church,  King's  College  Chapel,  St.  Mark's  of  Venice,  or 
Notre  Dame. 

The  best  comedies  of  the  cycles  —  the  York  and 
Wakefield  pageants  of  the  Flood,  the  N-Town  Trial  of 
Joseph  and  Mary  —  pass  from  jest  to  earnest  as  imper- 
ceptibly as  autumn  through  an  Indian  summer.  In  the 
Second  Shepherds'  Play,  one  cannot  but  remark  the 
propriety  of  the  charm,  as  well  as  the  dramatic  effect, 
with  which  the  foreground  of  the  sheep-stealing  fades  into 
the  radiant  picture  of  the  Nativity.  The  pastoral  at- 
mosphere is  already  shot  with  a  prophetic  gleam ;  the 


DRAMATIC   DEVELOPMENT  147 

fulfilment  is,  therefore,  no  shock  or  contrast,  but  a  trans- 
figuration—  an  epiphany.  It  is,  moreover,  to  be  remem- 
bered that  such  characters  and  episodes  as  are  comically 
treated  are  of  secular  derivation,  or,  if  scriptural,  of  no 
sacred  significance.  Thus  the  comic  and  the  realistic  in 
the  poet  were  set  free ;  and  it  is  just  when  he  is  embroid- 
ering the  material  of  mystery  with  the  stammel-red  or 
russet  of  his  homespun  that  he  is  of  most  interest  to  us. 
When  the  plays  have  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  guilds, 
the  playwright  puts  himself  most  readily  into  sympathy 
with  the  literary  consciousness  as  well  as  the  untutored 
aesthetic  taste  of  the  public  if  he  colours  the  spectacle,  old 
or  new,  with  what  is  pre-eminently  popular  and  distinc- 
tively national.  In  the  minster  and  out  of  it,  all  through 
the  Christian  year,  the  townsfolk  of  York  or  Chester  had 
as  much  of  ritual,  scriptural  narrative,  and  tragic  mystery 
as  they  desired,  and  probably  more.  When  the  pageants 
were  acted,  they  listened  with  simple  credulity,  no  doubt, 
to  the  sacred  history,  and  with  a  reverence  that  our  age 
of  illumination  can  neither  emulate  nor  understand ;  but 
we  may  be  sure  that  they  awaited  with  keenest  expecta- 
tion those  invented  episodes  where  tradition  conformed 
itself  to  familiar  life  —  the  impromptu  sallies,  the  cloth- 
yard  shafts  of  civic  and  domestic  satire  sped  by  well- 
known  wags  of  town  or  guild.  Of  the  appropriateness 
of  these  insertions  the  spectators  made  no  question,  and 
the  dramatists  themselves  do  not  seem  to  have  thought 
it  necessary  to  apologise  for  their  aesthetic  creed  or 
practice. 

It  is  as  a  propaedeutic  to  comedy,  then,  rather  than  tra- 
gedy that  I  prefer  to  treat  the  miracle  plays.  And  I  find  it 
easier  to  trace  some  order  of  dramatic  development  by 
approaching  them  from  this  point  of  view. 


148       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

I  have  elsewhere  attempted  to  show  *  that  the  later 
dramatists  did  not  invent  their  art ;  they  worked  with 
what  they  found,  and  they  found  a  dramatic  medium  of 
expression  to  which  centuries  and  countless  influences 
had  contributed.  An  extended  study  of  the  history 
of  English  drama  should  therefore  determine,  so  far  as 
possible,  the  relative  priority,  not  only  of  cycles,  but  of 
dramatic  stages  within  the  cycles ;  what  each  has  con- 
tributed to  the  enfranchisement  of  the  artistic  spirit  and 
the  development  of  the  technical  factors  of  the  art,  —  to 
what  extent  each  has  expressed  or  modified  the  realistic, 
satirical,  pathetic,  romantic,  or  humorous  view  of  life,  and 
in  what  ways  each  has  reflected  the  temper  of  its  time, 
the  manners  and  the  mind  of  the  people  that  wrote,  acted, 
and  witnessed  these  early  dramas.  If  I  arrange  the  plays 
that  bear  upon  the  development  of  popular  drama  accord- 
ing to  my  conclusions  regarding  priority  of  composition,  the 
order,  broadly  stated  for  our  present  rapid  survey,  would 
seem  to  be :  First,  the  Cornish  and  the  Old  Testament 
portions  of  the  Chester  and  N-Town,  then  the  productions 
of  the  second  and  third  periods  of  the  York,  and  closely 
following  these  the  crowning  efforts  of  the  Wakefield  or 
Towneley,  then  the  New  Testament  plays  of  the  Chester 
and  N-Town,  and  finally  the  surviving  portions  of  the 
collections  of  Digby  and  Newcastle.  This  order,  which 
is  roughly  historical,  has  the  advantage,  as  I  perceive  after 
testing  it,  of  presenting  a  not  unnatural  sequence  of  the 
aesthetic  values  or  interests  essential  to  a  kind  of  drama 
which  is  rather  comic  than  tragic :  — first  the  humour  of 
the  incidental,  then  of  the  essential  or  real,  and  gradually 
of  the  satirical ;  afterwards  the  accession  of  the  romantic, 
pathetic,  and  sublime  ;  the  wonderful,  the  allegorical,  and 
1  Representative  English  Comedies,  p.  xxiv. 


DRAMATIC   DEVELOPMENT          149 

the  mock-ideal ;  and  finally  of  the  scenic  and  sensational. 
Of  course  beneath  this  woof  of  cumulative  art  and  colour 
there  is  the  warp  of  the  original  intention :  the  mystery, 
the  sacrifice,  the  lesson.  The  presence  of  the  serious  and 
supernal  goes  without  saying;  but  it  is  in  the  incre- 
ment of  other  qualities  that  the  transmutation  of  the 
spectacle  from  liturgy  to  popular  drama  is  most  readily 
to  be  observed. 

Of  the  Old  Testament,  that  is,  the  earlier  Chester  and 
N-town  plays,  the  most  useful  for  our  present  purpose 
are  The  Death  of  Abel  and  Noah's  Flood.  With  them 
may  be  considered  the  Cornish  version.  The  Cornish 
miracles  present  us  with  dramatic  situations  in  the  litur- 
gical-epical germ,  and  characters  in  the  undifferentiated 
"rough."  The  Cain,  for  instance,  is  but  boor  and 
niggard ;  his  possibilities  for  comedy  are  undeveloped, 
but  it  is  impossible  that  they  should  long  be  repressed. 
The  devils,  indeed,  who  come  forward  like  a  chorus  at 
the  end  of  each  important  scene,  were  probably  pressed 
into  the  service  of  merriment ;  but  the  dramatic  motive 
for  which  they  exist  is  serious,  and  the  part  assigned  to 
them  is  more  consistent  than  in  any  of  the  other  cycles. 
The  Chester  play  of  Cain,  a  conglomerate  running  from 
the  Creation  to  the  death  of  Abel,  is  not  only  one 
of  the  crudest  of  the  cycle  (  much  more  so,  for  instance, 
than  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac  based  upon  the  Brome  Play),  but 
one  of  the  most  naive  on  the  subject.  The  character  of 
the  potential  fratricide,  with  his  canny  offering  of  the  ear- 
less corn  that  grew  next  the  way,  and  his  defiant  "  God, 
thou  gotteste  noe  better  of  me,  Be  thou  never  so  gryme," 
is  manifestly  nearer  the  primitive  conception  than  the 
Cayme  of  York  or  Wakefield.  He  is  not  yet  wit,  wag, 


i5o      PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

and  dare-devil.  The  episode  in  the  Chester  is  didactic, 
but  still  realistic ;  less  imaginative  than  in  the  York  or 
Wakefield,  but  creative.  Evidently  more  modern  than 
the  Chester  play,  which  it  somewhat  resembles,  is  the 
Cain  and  Abel  of  the  Ludus  Coventrize  or  N-Town.  The 
villain  is  well-conceived,  and  elaborated  with  pith  and 
humour.  He  discusses  the  Almighty  with  a  worldly 
wisdom  that  remotely  approaches  that  of  the  Wakefield, 
and  he  expresses  his  opinion  of  Abel  — 

Among  all  fools  that  go  on  ground 

I  hold  that  thou  be  one  of  the  most : 
To  tithe  [give  away  in  tithes]  the  best  that  is  most  sound, 

And  keep  the  worst  that  is  near  lost  — 

with  somewhat  the  same  vivid  and  natural  use  of  the 
vernacular.  The  action  between  the  brothers  is  more 
elaborate  than  in  Chester,  but  the  dramatic  quality  de- 
pends rather  upon  dialogue  than  development  of  the 
situation.  Its  versification  is  certainly  not  that  of  the 
earliest  stage  of  the  cycle  to  which  it  belongs,  and  its 
lyrical  quality  might  even  indicate  a  later  period  of  com- 
position than  the  corresponding  plays  in  the  York  and 
Wakefield  ;  but  it  is  not  derived  from  either  of  them. 

The  development  of  a  situation  from  the  serious  to  the 
humorous  is  admirably  illustrated  by  still  another  play  of 
this  earlier  group.  In  the  dramatisation  of  the  Flood,  the 
Cornish  cycle  presents  the  serious  aspect  of  the  naive  con- 
ception. Noah  and  his  wife  are  on  affectionate  terms  ;  she 
is  obedient  and  helpful.  It  has  not  occurred  to  the  writer  to 
introduce  an  extraneous  interest,  as,  for  instance,  that  of 
conjugal  strife.  The  play  is  interesting,  however,  because 
it  displays  some  slight  ability  to  discriminate  characters. 
Likewise  unconscious  of  comic  possibilities  is  the  N-Town 
play  of  the  Flood.  Though  probably  of  later  composi- 


DRAMATIC   DEVELOPMENT          151 

tion  than  the  corresponding  plays  in  other  cycles,  it  is,  in 
its  greater  part,  one  of  the  earlier,  though  not  of  the 
earliest  plays  of  its  own  cycle.  The  characters  (the  sons' 
wives  now  begin  to  play  a  part),  pious,  prosaic,  and  un- 
interesting, are  perfunctorily  portrayed,  but  the  con- 
struction of  the  play  is  ingenious,  especially  in  its 
manipulation  of  the  episode  of  Lamech,  not  as  an  extra- 
neous action,  but  as  a  factor  in  the  organic  development 
of  the  motive;  a  hint  of  a  sub-plot.  In  the  Chester 
play,  on  the  other  hand,  the  characters  are  distinct  and 
consistently  developed.  The  comic  episodes  are  natural 
and  justifiable,  for  they  serve  to  display,  not  to  distort, 
character,  and  they  grow  out  of  the  dramatic  action. 
They  are,  moreover,  varied,  and,  to  some  extent,  cumu- 
lative. This  play  is  indeed  a  vast  dramatic  advance 
upon  the  N-Town.  It  is  approximately  on  the  same 
plane  of  dramatic  development  as  the  York  play  of  The 
Flood)  and  should  be  considered  with  reference  to  it, 
although  in  spite  of  one  or  two  unique  resemblances  in 
language  and  conception,1  neither  pageant  can  be  re- 
garded as  dependent  upon  the  other. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  York  play  on  the  building 
of  the  Ark,  one  of  the  earliest  of  that  cycle,  is  serious. 
The  play  on  the  Flood,  however,  which  is  in  a  somewhat 
later  stanza,  indulges  in  an  altercation  between  Noah  and 
his  wife.  The  humour  of  this  in  turn  is  surpassed  by 
that  of  the  Chester,  so  also  the  technique.  While  in  the 
York  the  amusing  episode  is  sudden  and  of  one  sequence, 
in  the  Chester  the  clouds  upon  the  domestic  horizon 
gather  with  artistic  reluctance,  and,  when  they  burst,  re- 
fresh the  soil  in  more  than  one  spot.  Noah  is  not  yet 

1  Y.  VIII,  41  ;    Ch.  Ill,  41.     Uxor  wishes  to  rescue  her  "  commo- 
drys,"  etc. ;  appearance  of  the  rainbow. 


1 52       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  henpecked  husband  of  later  comedy,  though  pro- 
phetic thereof.  Peaceably  inclined,  but  capable  of  a 
temper,  he  serves  God  and  apostrophises  the  perversity 
of  women.  The  possibilities  of  his  wife's  character  are 
cunningly  unfolded.  At  first  apparently  amenable  to 
reason,  her  progress  toward  "  curstness  "  is  a  study  in  the 
development  of  character.  Few  situations  in  our  early 
drama  are  better  conceived  than  her  refusal  at  the  critical 
moment  to  enter  the  Ark  unless  her  gossips  are  also 
taken  aboard.  Cam's  "  Shall  we  all  feche  her  in  ?  "  the 
drinking  song,  —  a  rollicking  song,  too,  with  the  lilt, 
"  Back  and  side,  go  bare,  go  bare,"  -  Noah's  collapse  of 
temper  and  the  alapam  auriy  all  these  are  good  fooling, 
and  must  have  left  our  ancestors  thirsty  for  more.  The 
"  business  "  is  of  course  enhanced  by  the  multiplication 
of  participants,  by  the  solicitude  of  the  children,  and  the 
apathy  of  the  gossips.  The  song,  I  am  afraid,  is  a  later 
addition  ;  but  even  without  that  the  appropriateness  of 
diction  to  the  naive  (  not  vague  or  poetic )  statement  of 
details  marks  an  essential  advance  in  realism. 


THE   YORK   SCHOOLS  153 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  YORK   SCHOOLS   OF   HUMOUR   AND 
REALISM 

THE  York  cycle  affords  very  few  situations  ministering 
to  the  humour  of  the  incidental.  Such  as  are  of  that 
character  must  be  assigned  to  more  than  one  period  of 
composition ;  none,  however,  is  to  be  found  in  the  plays 
which,  according  to  philological  tests,  belong  to  the 
formative  stage  of  the  cycle.1  This  is  but  usual,  for 
while  the  pageants  were  illustrating  only  the  more  impor- 
tant events  of  the  church  calendar,  and  were  still  reminis- 
cent of  their  ecclesiastical  origin,  opportunity  for  ludicrous 
situations  was  limited :  we  find  a  touch  of  nature  here 
and  there  perhaps  ;  but  not  more. 

All  approaches  to  the  comic  in  the  plays  of  York  — 
the  abusive  behaviour  of  Cain,  the  quarrel  between  Noah 
and  his  wife,  the  attempt  of  the  shepherds  to  mimic  the 
angelic  choir,  the  beadle's  intrusion  upon  the  loves  of 
Pilate  and  Percula,  the  effort  of  Herod  and  his  sons  "  to 
have  gaudis  full  goode  and  games  or  we  go  "  with  the 
prisoner  brought  to  trial,  and  the  failure  of  their  bluster, 
threats,  and  shouting,  to  "gete  one  worde"  out  of  him 

1  Probably  II,  X,  XI,  XX,  XXIII,  XXIV,  XXVII,  XXXV, 
XXXVII,  and  those  parts  of  XII,  XV,  and  XVII  which  also  show 
connections  with  the  typical  northern  septenar  stanza.  (Davidson,  Engl. 
Myst.  Plays,  p.  144,  would  also  add  IX,  second  part  of  Noah.  I  do 
not  agree.) 


i54       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

—  may  be  safely  attributed  to  schools,  or  periods,  of 
composition  which  we  shall  style  the  middle  and  the 
later.  A  comparative  study  of  the  versification,  phrase- 
ology, and  occasion  of  these  passages  leads  me,  moreover, 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  original  comic  parts  of  the 
Sacrificium  of  Cayme  and  Abell,  of  the  Noe  and  His  Wife, 
and  of  the  Shepherds,  are  of  a  humorous  master  of  what 
we  may  call  the  middle  period.2 

The  Beadle  and  Herod  episodes  are  of  the  later 
school  and  are  realistic.  They  occur  in  the  Dream  of 
Pilate's  Wife  and  the  Trial  before  Herod —  plays  which 
themselves  form  the  core  of  a  group  of  six  that  in 
literary  style,  conversational  method,  dramatic  action 
and  technique,  might  very  well  be  the  work  of  one 
individual.  These  six  are  XXVI,  The  Conspiracy  to 
Take  Jesus;  XXVIII,  The  Agony  and  Betrayal;  XXIX, 
Peters  Denial;  Jesus  before  Caiaphas ;  XXX,  Pilate's 
Wife,  etc;  XXXI,  Herod;  XXXIII,  Second  Trial  before 
Pilate  Continued,  and  probably  XXXII,  Purchase  of  the 
Field  of  Blood.  The  subjects  are  such  as  might  reason- 
ably have  been  used  for  an  expansion  of  the  cycle  to 
accommodate  the  increasing  number  of  guilds  in  York, 
at  a  time  after  the  more  important  and  obvious  religious 
events  had  been  dramatised.  The  materials  are  practi- 
cally the  same  for  these  six  plays,  and  are  subjected  in 
each  case  to  the  same  free  handling.3  The  somewhat 

1  The  Brewbarret  passage  as  it  stands  is  later,  but  it  probably  represents 
the  earlier  Garcio  who  was  the  origin  of  the  Wakefield  Pikeharness. 

*  To  this  period   I  would  in  general  assign  also  the  serious  and  ro- 
mantic plays  of  a  scriptural  character  not  included  in  the  lists  here  indi- 
cated as  of  the  first  and  third  periods  ;  for  instance,  the  series  of  Joseph 
tnd  Mary  plays. 

*  While  there  arc  good  metrical  reasons  for  doubting  whether  the  plays 
dealing  with  the  Magi  and  the  Innocents  are  by  the  same  hand,  there  are 


THE   YORK   SCHOOLS  155 

alliterative,  experimental  tendency  of  versification  marks 
them  all.  Not  only  are  the  experimental  or  transitional 
stanzaic  forms  of  this  group  of  plays,  the  excessive  allit- 
eration, the  substitution  of  anapaestic  ease  and  rapidity 
for  the  regular  beat  and  stiffer  movement,  indications 
of  a  later  date,  but  the  style  itself  is  that  of  a  different 
author,  or  school,  retaining  the  facile  idiom  of  the  earlier 
days,  but  substituting  for  the  old-fashioned  humour  an 
attempt  at  realistic  portrayal  of  life,  and  for  the  home- 
spun wit  a  bombast  and  abuse  which,  though  idiomatic? 
are  sometimes  wearisome.  The  bombast  is  chiefly  from 
the  mouths  of  Pilate  and  Herod.  The  realism  and  other 
such  advance  in  dramatic  technique  leap  to  the  eye  in 
the  conduct  of  Caiaphas  and  Annas,  their  cunning,  their 
virulence,  their  knowledge  of  the  shady  side  of  contract 
law ;  in  the  careful  portraiture  of  Judas,  who  "  wolde 
make  a  merchaundyse  with  the  high  priests  their  mys- 
cheffe  to  marre " ;  of  his  shifts  for  gain,  his  remorse 
when  the  triumph  gutters ;  in  the  grim  humour  of  the 
Janitor  (the  precursor  of  Shakespeare's  Porter  of  hell- 
gate),  —  his  reply  to  the  arch-conspirator  applying  for 
admission,  "Thy  glyfftyng1  is  so  grimly  thou  gars  my 
harte  growe,"2  .  .  .  "thou  lokist  like  a  lurdane  his 
liffelod  hadde  lost,"  and  his  description  of  him  to  the 
"  Dukes  " : 

A  hyne  helte-full 3  of  ire,  for  hasty  he  is  ... 
I  kenne  hym  noght,  but  he  is  cladde  in  a  cope 
He  cares4  with  a  kene  face  uncomely  to  kys;  — 

indications  throughout  of  the  influence  of  the  realistic  master  or  school. 
See  Kamann,  Die  Quellen  d.  York  Plays,  Anglia  X,  210,  «.  /.  to.  and 
Herttrich,  Studien  zu  d.  Tork  Plays,  Breslau,  1886. 

1  glance.  2  fear. 

8  hind  full  to  the  hilt.  4  wends. 


156       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

in  the  common  sense  of  the  beadle  in  the  Dream  who, 
knowing  literally  the  laws,  would  send  the  lady  home, 
ere  "  the  day  waxe  ought  dymme," 

For  scho  may  stakir1  in  the  strete, 
But  scho  stalworthely  stande ; 
Late  hir  take  hir  leve  while  that  light  is; 

in  the  curtain  side  of  Pilate  and  his  lady ;  in  the  dis- 
criminate drawing  of  women  from  Percula  and  her  maid 
down  to  the  Mulier  who  detects  Peter  and  taunts  him 
with  falsehood : 

Itt  were  grete  skorne  that  he  schulde  skape,  .  .  . 
Wayte  nowe,  he  lokis  like  a  brokke,2 
Were  he  in  a  bande  for  to  bayte ; 
Or  ellis  like  a  nowele  in  a  stok,3 
Full  prevaly  his  pray  for  to  wayte, 

and  Peter's  plea  that  her  accusation  be  rejected,  — 
For  women  are  crabbed,  that  comes  them  of  kynde ; 

in  the  vivid  brutality  of  the  soldiers,  the  minute  and 
horrible  detail  of  their  conversation,  the  quick  retort 
and  apt,  the  picturesque  phrase,  the  elaborate  dramatic 
dialogue,  sometimes  long-winded,  to  be  sure ;  in  the  un- 
conscious but  skilful  distinction  between  characters  some- 
what similar,  Caiaphas,  Annas,  Pilate,  Herod,  and  the 
control  of  supernumeraries ;  in  the  interplay  of  the  pa- 
thetic, the  wonderful,  and  the  fearful ;  in  the  accumulation 
of  scenes  within  the  act,  and  the  frequent  use  of  dramatic 
surprise.  These  and  other  features  of  the  kind  charac- 
terise the  York  school  of  realism.  So  peculiar  and  at 
the  same  time  uniform  is  the  technique  that  its  inter- 
polation may  be  detected  in  plays  not  characterised  by 

1  she  may  stagger.  2  badger.  '  an  owl  on  a  stump. 


THE   YORK   SCHOOLS  157 

the  transitional  and  elaborate  verse  structure  of  the 
group,  but  written  in  an  earlier  ecclesiastical  stanza ;  and 
even  at  times  in  plays  marked  by  the  typical  twelve-line 
septenar  stanza  of  the  parent  cycle.  Wherever  the  York 
realist  has  inserted,  elaborated,  revised,  or  recast,1  he  has 
left  his  unquestionable  mark,  though  side  by  side  with 
passages  just  as  undoubtedly  of  earlier  date. 

But  if  these  six  or  seven  Pilate  and  Herod  plays  are 
to  be  attributed  to  one  author,  then  that  author  is  more 
or  less  responsible  also  for  three  other  plays,  XXXVI  — 
XXXVIII,  the  MortificaciOy  the  Harrowing,  and  the 
Resurrection.  For  in  two  of  the  former  group,  Pilate 's 
Wife  and  the  Second  Trial,  he  has  quoted  from  memory 
and  adapted  to  the  stanzaic  form  portions  of  a  northern 
middle  English  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.  Other  passages 
from  this  metrical  Gospel  are  in  like  fashion  incorporated 
in  the  Mortificacio,  Harrowing,  and  Resurrection.  No 
other  plays  in  this  or  other  cycles  utilise  the  metrical 
version  of  the  Nicodemus ;  and  the  adaptations  here  are 
of  such  a  kind  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  their 
insertion  by  ordinary  copyists  from  the  original  text. 
The  Mortificacio  (XXXVI)  with  its  elaborate  and  unique 
stanza  is  an  original  production  substituted  by  our  play- 
wright for  some  older  play.  The  Harrowing  and  the 
Resurrection  (XXXVII,  XXXVIII)  are  survivals,  in 
earlier  stanzaic  form,  which  he  has  remodelled.  If  we 
assume,  and  not  without  reason,  that  he  also  retouched 
the  Christ  Led  up  to  Calvary  (XXXIV)  and  the  Cruci- 
fixion (XXXV),  we  may  regard  him  as  the  Passion 
Playwright  of  York.  For  only  one  play  of  the  series 
beginning  with  the  Conspiracy  (XXVI)  and  ending  with 

1  For   instance,    certain   overalliterated   and  accented    Herodiacs  and 
other  regalities  in  XI,  XVI,  XVII. 


158       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  Resurrection  (XXXVIII)  evidently  lacks  his  influ- 
ence ;  and  that  is  the  Last  Supper  (XXVII),  —  one 
of  the  pageants  of  the  original  didactic  stage  of  the 
cycle. 

The  longer  one  studies  these  York  plays,  the  more  is 
one  persuaded  that  not  only  were  there  three  York  periods 
or  schools,  but  that  there  was  at  least  one  playwright  in 
each  of  the  latter  two  who  distinctly  contributed  to  the 
development  of  English  drama.  A  playwright  of  the 
middle  period,  to  which  belong  Caym,  Noe  and  His  Wife, 
and  The  Angels  and  Shepherds,  is  characterised  by  an  un- 
sophisticated humour ;  the  distinctive  playwright  of  the 
later  or  realistic  period  is  marked  by  his  observation  of 
life,  his  reproduction  of  manners,  his  dialogue,  and  the 
plasticity  of  his  technique :  whether  in  presentation  of 
the  comic,  or  of  the  tragic  and  horrible,  aspect  of  his 
narrative. 

That  the  later  school  or  period  was  influenced  by  the 
manner  of  its  predecessor  is  further  indicated  by  the 
fact  that  of  its  two  most  efficient  stanzaic  forms,  one, 
namely,  that  used  in  the  Conspiracy,  is  anticipated 
(though  in  simpler  iambic  beat)  by  that  of  Noey  the 
typical  play  of  the  middle  period,  the  school  of  humours, 
while  the  other,  the  stanzaic  form,  of  which  variants  are 
found  in  The  Mortificacio  and  The  Second  Trial,  has  its 
germ  probably  in  The  Cayme  of  that  same  middle  period. 

The  rhyme-scheme  of  the  Noe  isabababab4 
c8  d8  c4  c4  c4  ds  in  iambs  varied  with  anapaests,  thus: 

Filius.     Fadir,  I  have  done  nowe  as  ye  comaunde, 

My  modir  comes  to  you  this  daye. 
Noe.     Scho  is  welcome,  I  wele  warrande, 

This  worlde  sail  sone  be  waste  awaye. 
Uxor.     Where  art  thou,  Noye. 


THE   YORK   SCHOOLS  159 

Noe.  Loo  !  here  at  hande, 

Come  hedir  faste,  dame,  I  thee  praye. 
Uxor.     Trowes  thou  that  I  wol  leve  the  harde  lande 
And  tourne  up  here  on  toure  deraye  ? 1 
Nay,  Noye,  I  am  nought  bowne 

To  fonde  nowe  over  there  ffelis,2 
Doo  barnes,  goo  we  and  trusse  to  towne. 
Noe.     Nay,  certis,  sothly  than  mon  ye  drowne. 
Uxor.     In  faythe,  thou  were  als  goode  come  downe, 
And  go  do  som  what  ellis. 

The  rhyme-scheme  of  the  Conspiracy  of  the  Realistic 
school  is  the  same  ;  but  the  octave  is  in  septenars,  and  the 
triplet  c  c  c  is  in  trimeters. 

The  rhyme-scheme  of  the  other  perfected  stanza  of  the 
realistic  York  school,  as  seen  in  the  Mortificacio,  a  b  a  b 
bcbc3d1eee2d3,  is  merely  an  expansion  of  that  of 
the  Caym  of  the  earlier  school,  which  runs  thus,  in  iambics, 
a  b  abbc'd'bccM2: 

Caym.     We!     Whythir  now  in  wilde  waneand3 

Trowes  thou  I  thynke  to  trusse  of  towne  ? 
Goo,  jape  thee,  robard  jangillande, 4 

Me  liste  nought  nowe  to  rouk  nor  rowne.5 
Abell.         A  !  dere  brothir,  late  us  be  bowne 
Goddis  biddyng  blithe  to  fulfille, 
I  tell  thee. 

Caym.         Ya,  daunce  in  the  devil  way,  dresse  thee  downe, 
For  I  wille  wyrke  even  as  I  will. 
What  mystris  thee,6  in  gode  or  ille, 

Of  me  to  melle  thee. 

1  confusion. 

2  I  'm  not  ready  just  now  to  voyage  over  the  fells. 
8  Oh,  whither  now,  with  a  wanion  (curse). 

4  Go,  mock  thyself,  jangling  thief. 
6  I  have  no  mind  to  bow  or  whisper. 
6  Why  needst  thou. 


160       PLAYS   OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  Mortificacio  makes  a  quatrain  out  of  the  first  b  c, 
rhymes  the  triplet,  and  slides  into  anapaests  ;  and  so  doing 
prepares  not  only  the  best  stanzaic  instrument  of  the 
York  realistic  school,  but  at  the  same  time  the  prototype 
of  the  brightest,  wittiest,  and  most  effective  verse-form 
of  the  finest  plays  of  the  neighbouring  town  of  Wakefield. 
With  these  two  stanzaic  forms  the  realistic  school,  so 
far  as  we  may  conclude  from  the  mutilated  condition  of 
surviving  plays,  seems  to  experiment ;  and  the  second  of 
them,  that  of  the  Mortificacioy  may  be  regarded  as  the 
final  and  distinctive  outcome  of  York  versification.  To 
the  leading  playwrights  of  each  of  these  schools,  the 
former  the  best  humourist,  the  latter  the  best  realist  of 
the  York  drama,  —  to  these  anonymous  composers  of  the 
most  facile  and  vivid  portions  of  the  York  cycle,  our 
comedy  owes  a  still  further  debt ;  for  from  them  it  would 
appear  that  a  poet  of  undoubted  genius  derived  some- 
thing of  his  inspiration  and  much  of  his  method  and 
technique,  —  our  first  great  comic  dramatist,  the  anony- 
mous Player-Clerk  of  Wakefield. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          161 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER 
His  RELATION  TO  THE  SCHOOLS  OF  YORK 

IN  order  to  show  the  more  plainly  the  indebtedness  of 
our  first  great  comic  dramatist  to  the  leading  dramatists 
of  the  York  cycle,  I  must  for  a  few  paragraphs  enlarge 
upon  the  treatment  already  accorded  to  this  subject  in 
my  edition  of  Representative  English  Comedies. 

We  know  that  Wakefield  actors  sometimes  played  in 
the  Corpus  Christi  plays  of  York,  and  it  was  only  natural 
that  the  smaller  town  should  borrow  from  the  dramatic 
riches  of  its  metropolitan  neighbour.  We  are  therefore 
not  surprised  to  find  in  the  Wakefield  cycle  a  number  of 
plays  which  are  in  large  part  literally  taken  from  the  York 
cycle,  the  Pharao  from  York  XI,  the  Pagina  Doctorum 
from  Y.  XX,  the  Extractio  A nimarum  from  Y.  XXXVII, 
the  Resurrectio  Domini  from  Y.  XXXVIII,  the  Judicium 
from  Y.  XLVIII.  None  of  these  borrowings  or  of  their 
originals  is  in  either  of  the  perfected  stanzaic  forms  of  the 
later  York  schools  —  humorous  and  realistic  —  of  which 
mention  was  made  in  the  preceding  chapter,  but  in 
altogether  simpler  and  cruder  measures.  In  the  Wake- 
field  Ascension^  and  the  Wakefield  Conspiracy,  however, 
which  in  other  respects  betray  their  derivation  from 
earlier  metres  and  discarded  portions  of  the  York  cycle, 
there  are  embedded  occasional  variations  of  the  later 

ii 


162       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

York  strophes  evidently  in  transition  toward  their  final 
adaptation  by  the  master-dramatist  of  Wakefield.  In 
stanza  57  of  the  Wakefield  Ascension^  for  instance,  we 
find  a  variant  of  one  of  the  best  stanzas  of  York  —  that 
of  the  Morttficacio  —  abab  b  c  b  c8  d1  e 2  e 2  e2  d 
side  by  side  with  a  tentative  form  of  the  final  Wakefield 
stanza,  and  very  much  like  it ;  and  in  the  Wakefield 
Conspiracy ',  97-10x3,  we  find  similar  variants  of  the  other 
favourite  stanza  of  the  York  realistic  school,  the  abab 
ababcdcccdof  the  York  Conspiracy ,  with  its  octave 
in  septenars,  and  sestet  in  trimeter.  In  the  Wakefield 
Fflagellacio,  moreover,  the  four  opening  stanzas  of  a 
transitional  York  strophe  —  abababab*c1ddd2 
c2,  are  immediately  followed  by  twenty-four  in  the 
Wakefield  master's  improvement  upon  that  form.  Else- 
where there  occurs  a  similar  juxtaposition.  It  is  there- 
fore beyond  doubt  that  the  composer  of  the  perfected 
York-Wakefield  stanza,  such  as  appears  in  a  remarkable 
group  of  the  Wakefield  plays,  must  have  been  influenced 
consciously  or  indirectly  by  the  later  York  school  of 
dramatic  composition  and  by  the  humorous  school  of  the 
middle  York  period,  from  which  the  later  school  derived 
much  of  its  artistic  technique.  About  one-quarter  of 
the  Wakefield  cycle,  a  quarter  which  for  other  reasons, 
linguistic,  stylistic,  dramatic,  and  social,  one  is  tempted  to 
ascribe  to  a  single  author,  is  couched  in  a  stanzaic  form 
of  which  the  following  is  an  example  : 

I  thank  it,  God, — 
Hark  ye  what  I  mene  — 

Ffor  even  or  for  od 
I  have  mekyll  tene  j1 

1  sorrow. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER  163 

As  hevy  as  a  sod 

I  grete  with  myn  een 
When  I  nap  on  my  cod,1 
For  care  that  has  bene, 

And  sorow. 
All  my  shepe  ar  gone, 
I  am  not  left  oone, 
The  rott  has  them  slone ; 
Now  beg  I  and  borow. 

This  thirteen-line  stanza,  rhyming  abababab2c1 
d  d  d  2  c  2,  is  the  evident  outgrowth,  by  combination  and 
modification,  of  the  York  Mortificacio  and  Conspiracy 
stanzas,  of  which  I  have  just  spoken.  Sometimes,  in- 
deed, a  three-accented  line  occurs  among  the  first  eight, 
showing  the  more  plainly  the  derivation  from  the  Mor- 
tificacio.  This  resemblance  is,  however,  ordinarily  ob- 
scured by  the  fact  that  the  Wakefield  stanza  has  been 
preserved  in  manuscript  and  print  in  a  nine-line  mould 
—  the  first  four  lines  of  which  represent  the  first  eight 
of  the  thirteen-line  stanza,  thus  : 

I  thank  it,  God  |  hark  ye  what  I  mene, 
Ffor  even  or  for  od  |  I  have  mekyll  tene ; 
As  hevy  as  a  sod  |  I  grete  with  myn  eene 
When  I  nap  on  my  cod,  |  for  care  that  has  bene. 

This  nine-line  stanza,  with  its  involved  rhymes  in  the 
first  quatrain,  is  in  all  probability  the  Wakefield  develop- 
ment of  the  thirteen-  and  fourteen-line  stanzas  of  the 
York  Mortificacio  and  Conspiracy.  Whether  the  rapid 
beat  and  frequently  recurring  rhyme  are  a  conscious 
elaboration  of  the  York  or  a  happy  find  or  accident,  the 
stanzaic  result  is  an  accurate  index  of  the  superiority  in 
spirit  and  style  achieved  over  their  congeners  of  York  by 
these  comedies  of  Wakefield. 

'  *  pillow. 


164       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  Wakefield  cycle  had  completed  what  Mr.  Pollard 
fitly  calls  an  older  didactic  period,  of  which  the  product 
is  couched  in  couplets  (a  a4)  or  in  various  forms  of  the 
six-line  stanza  aa4b8cc*b3,  beloved  by  early  metrical 
romance  and  used  predominatingly  in  the  Chester  plays ; 
it  had  indeed  made  most  of  its  borrowings  from  York 
(in  the  abababab4cdcd3  and  similar  simple 
metres)  when  the  humorist  or  humorists  of  the  nine- 
line  stanza  took  it  in  hand.  In  the  Creation,  the  Isaac, 
the  Jacob)  the  Processus  Prophetarum,  the  C<esar  Augustus, 
the  Annunciation,  the  Salutation,  the  Purification,  and  the 
St.  Thomas  —  all  of  the  older  period  —  no  nine-line  stanza 
occurs.  But  at  the  close  of  the  Mactacio  Abel,  which  in 
other  metrical  respects  is  of  the  didactic  cycle,  we  find 
two  of  the  nine-line  stanzas  in  their  thirteen-line  forma- 
tion and  entirely  in  the  realistic  Wakefield  vein.  In 
one  of  the  five  plays  derived  from  the  York  cycle, 
namely,  the  Judicium,  stanzas  16  to  48,  and  68  to  76  in 
the  nine-line  Wakefield  stanza,  have  been  inserted.  Of 
the  two  plays  which  show  a  general  resemblance  to  a 
corresponding  York,  one,  the  Herod,  is  in  this  stanza, 
and  to  the  other,  the  Conspiracy,  a  dozen  of  the  stanzas 
are  prefixed.  The  Fflagellacio  (XXII),  the  second  half 
of  which  is  an  imitation,  sometimes  loose,  sometimes 
literal,  of  York  XXXIV  (Christ  Led  Up  to  Cahary), 
opens  with  twenty-three  of  these  stanzas  —  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  original  part.  One  of  them,  No.  25,  is, 
by  the  way,  based  upon  stanza  2  of  that  part  of  York 
XXXIV  which  is  not  taken  over  by  the  Wakefield  play. 
In  the  Wakefield  Ascension,  which  adapts,  but  in  no 
slavish  manner,  a  few  passages  from  the  York  XLIII, 
we  find  two  of  this  playwright's  nine-line  stanzas ;  *  and 
1  Stanza  57  might  just  as  well  be  arranged  like  stanza  58. 


THE   WAKEFIELD   MASTER  165 

in  the  Wakefield  Crucifixion,  which  has  some  slight 
reminiscence  of  York  XXXV  and  XXXVI,  we  find  one. 
In  that  part  of  the  Wakefield  less  directly,  or  not  at  all, 
connected  with  the  York  cycle,  four  whole  plays,  the 
Processus  Noe,  the  two  Shepherds'  Plays,  and  the  Buf- 
feting, and  occasional  portions  of  other  plays1  are  written 
in  this  stanza. 

This  contribution  in  the  nine-line  stanza  amounts,  as 
has  been  said,  to  approximately  one-fourth  of  the  cycle  ; 
and  allowing  for  modifications  due  to  oral  and  scribal 
transmission,  it  is  of  one  language  and  phraseology. 
Not  merely  the  identity  of  stanza  and  diction,  however, 
leads  one  to  suspect  an  identity  of  authorship ;  it  is  the 
prevalence  in  all  these  passages,  but  not  in  others,  of 
spiritual  characteristics  in  approximately  the  same  com- 
bination —  realistic  and  humorous  qualities  singularly 
suitable  to  the  development  of  a  vigorous  national 
comedy.  "  If  any  one,"  says  Mr.  Pollard,  "  will  read 
these  plays  together,  I  think  he  cannot  fail  to  feel  that 
they  are  all  the  work  of  the  same  writer,  and  that  this 
writer  deserves  to  be  ranked  —  if  only  we  knew  his 
name! — at  least  as  high  as  Langland,  and  as  an  expo- 
nent of  a  rather  boisterous  kind  of  humour,  had  no  equal 
in  his  own  day."  And,  speaking  of  the  Mactacio  Abel, 
where  we  lack  the  evidence  of  identity  of  metre,  Mr. 
Pollard  adds,  "The  extraordinary  youthfulness  of  the 
play  and  the  character  of  its  humour  make  it  difficult  to 
dissociate  it  from  the  work  of  the  author  of  the  Shep- 
herds1 Plays,  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  this,  also,  at  least 
in  part,  must  be  added  to  his  credit." 2  I  had  come  to  a 

1  XXIV,  1-5,  56-59  ;  XXVII,  4.  Passages  in  a  closely  similar 
stanza  are  XXII,  1-4 ;  XXIII,  ^ ;  XXVII,  30.  On  the  order  of  the 
Wakefield  Plays,  see  also  Bunzen,  Kritik  d.  Wakefield  Mysterien,  p.  19. 

3  The  Totvneley  Plays,  Introd.,  p.  xxii. 


166      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

similar  conclusion  before  reading  Mr.  Pollard's  opinion, 
and  I  may  say  that  I  detect  the  Wakefield  master  in  the 
Processus  Talentorum  as  well ;  for  though  the  stanzaic 
form  of  that  pageant  is  not  his  favourite,  the  humour, 
the  dramatic  technique,  and  the  phraseology  are  closely 
reminiscent  of  him.  In  this  revising  and  editing  process, 
the  Wakefield  master  was  brought  into  touch  with  the 
York  schools  of  comic  and  realistic  composition.  What 
he  derived  from  those  schools  and  what  he  added,  may 
be  gathered  from  a  comparative  view  of  the  related 
portions  of  these  cycles.  Let  us  consider  a  typical 
instance  or  two  of  each  kind  in  both  York  and  Wake- 
field. 

His  RELATION  TO   THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMOUR 

Of  the  York  school  of  humour  the  plays  dealing  with 
the  Flood  are  an  admirable  example.  One,  The  Building 
of  the  Ark)  is  serious  and  of  early  composition.  We  may 
dismiss  it  from  the  present  consideration.  The  other, 
Noe  and  His  Wife,  is  of  the  middle  period ;  but  it  is  of 
the  earliest  stage  of  comic  production  in  the  cycle.  The 
action  lacks  the  variety  of  its  Wakefield  correspondent, 
and,  as  we  have  already  seen,  of  the  Chester ;  but  the 
characterisation  is  discriminating  and  distinct  In  the 
first  scene  Noe  contemplates  his  preparation  for  the  flood, 
and  sends  his  sons  for  their  mother.  He  appears  to  be 
pious  and  long-suffering,  but  his  wife  is  a  shrew  from 
the  beginning.  In  the  second  scene,  when  bidden  to 
the  ark,  she  "  wol  come  no  narre."  But  her  curiosity 
gets  the  better  of  her;  she  cannot  sit  still  till  she  has 
discovered  what  Noe  means.  In  the  third  scene,  before 
the  ark,  "business"  waxes  furious;  and  the  strife  of 
tongues  keeps  pace,  brisk,  witty,  and  natural.  Here  we 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER  167 

discover  the  first  artistically  constructed  woman  in  Eng- 
lish comedy.  She  won't  enter  the  ark  —  for  a  variety 
of  reasons,  in  ordering  which  the  dramatist  has  displayed 
no  slight  knowledge  of  the  probabilities.  "  Where  art 
thou,  Noe?"  (He  bids  her  embark  quickly.)  "Why 
should  I  leave  the  hard  land?  .  .  .  I'm  not  fain  for  any 
voyage  of  discovery,  especially  in  that  old  ark.  .  .  . 
Come,  children,  let 's  trusse  to  towne."  "  Drown  ?  sayst 
thou  ?  Now,  Noe,  thou  drivelest  fast ;  art  well-nigh 
mad ;  I  am  aghast.  Farewell,  /  will  go  home  again." 
(He  seeks  to  detain  her.)  "Hello!  Thou  wert  as 
good  let  me  go  my  gait."  (Noe  calls  upon  the  sons  to 
help :  they  persuade  her  that  the  world  will  surely  sink.) 
"  What 's  that  ?  Alas,  that  I  this  news  should  hear ! 
Well,  then,  I  must  hie  me  home  and  pack."  (Noe's 
temper  breaks  loose.)  "  Wha.t,  not  *  trusse  my  tolis.' 
Noe,  thou  mightst  have  let  me  wit  what  thou  didst  these 
hundred  years  while  thou  letst  me  sit  at  home."  (He 
apologises,  saying  it  was  "  Goddis  wille.")  "  God's  will? 
Psha!  Take  that."  (He  "gets  a  clowte.")  "God's 
will  again  ?  c  Thou  shulde  have  witte  my  will,  If  I 
wolde  assent  there  till,  Now  first  I  fynde  and  feele,  Why 
thou  hast  to  the  forest  sought.'  Well  if  I  must  escape 
from  scathe,  I  would  c  my  commodrys  and  my  cosynes 
bathe '  went  with  us  in  company."  That  hope  proving 
vain,  this  admirable  matron  subsides  and  passes  into  the 
ark.  Her  daughters  comfort  her,  and  Noe  rules  with  a 
chastened  joy.  In  the  fourth  scene  the  conversation  is 
biblical  and  more  general,  the  birds  are  sent  forth,  and 
at  last  Noe  beholds  the  "  hills  of  Hermonye."  Once 
more  Uxor  breaks  out  in  lament  for  her  kin  and  com- 
pany. "  Dame,  all  are  drowned,"  retorts  Noe ;  "  let  be 
thy  din." 


168      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Here  we  have,  then,  a  comic  episode  with  an  attempt 
at  "  business,"  the  rudiments  of  characterisation,  and  a 
commendable  naturalness  and  ease  of  conversation. 

Now,  the  Wakefield  dramatist,  whether  we  regard 
the  stanzaic  form  of  his  Noe  as  derived  from  or  suggested 
by  the  York  play  or  not,  certainly  appears  to  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  York  treatment  of  the  subject.  The 
plays  agree  in  details  which,  at  the  same  time,  distinguish 
them  from  those  of  other  cycles.  The  Wakefield  Pro- 
cessus  Noe  belongs  to  the  third  or  artistic  stage  of  com- 
position in  its  own  cycle.  It  is  in  five  scenes,  and  in 
each  of  them  it  improves  upon  its  congener  of  York. 
The  fable  no  longer  constitutes  a  comic  episode  nor  a 
mere  string  of  such  episodes ;  nor  is  it  exactly  a  farce. 
It  may  be  described  as  a  comic  history.  Coarse  as  the 
quarrelling  may  be,  and  uproarious  the  fun,  the  play  gives 
evidence  of  shrewd  observation  ;  it  abounds  with  realistic 
touches,  confidential  asides,  contemporary  nicknames, 
assorted  terms  of  abuse,  and  a  rich,  varied  rustic  philos- 
ophy. The  humour  is  of  a  piece  with  that  of  the  earlier 
York  school;  the  realism,  of  a  piece  with  the  later;  the 
play  as  a  whole  is  the  work  of  a  genius  who  knows  not 
only  to  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature,  but  to  select  the 
nature  which  shall  be  mirrored. 

Scene  I.     The  Forest.     Enter  Noey  bewailing  the  evil 

days : 
He  has  served  God  "sex  hundreth  yeres  and  odd," 

And  now  I  wax  old, 

Seke,  sory  and  cold, 

As  muk  apon  mold 

I  widder  away. 

Yet  he  will  cry  for  himself  and  his  fry  that  they  be 
brought  to  God's  hall  in  heaven.     God  appears  above, 


B  2, 


•3     g> 


THE   WAKEFIELD   MASTER          169 

repenting  that  He  ever  made  man,  and  proposing  to 
"  fordo  all  this  medill-erd  with  floods  " ;  but  Noe  and 
his  wife  He  will  spare,  for  they  would  never  strive  with 
Him,  nor  Him  offend.  He  informs  Noe  of  his  purpose, 
and  commands  the  building  of  the  ark.  God,  however, 
appears  to  be  less  conversant  with  the  character  of  Noe's 
Uxor  than  her  husband,  or  more  tolerant ;  for  no  sooner 
has  the  Deity  disappeared  than  Noe  expresses  a  doubt 
as  to  how  this  pattern  of  womankind  will  take  the  news : 

Lord,  homward  will  I  hast  as  fast  as  that  I  may ; 
My  wife  will  I  frast1  what  she  will  say.     [Exit  Deus. 
And  I  am  agast  that  we  get  som  fray 

Betwixt  us  both  : 
For  she  is  full  tetchee, 
For  litill  oft  angre, 
If  anything  wrang  be, 

Soyne  is  she  wroth.     Tune  perget  ad  uxorem. 

Scene  II.  Noe's  House.  "  God  spede,  dere  wife,  how 
fare  ye  ?  "  "  The  best  I  can  ;  the  worse  now  I  see  thee." 
He  says  that  he  bears  ill-tidings.  She  opines  that  he 
were  worthy  to  be  clad  in  Stafford  blue  (like  a  flunkey), 
for  he  is  always  adread  of  something  : 

For  I  dare  be  thi  borrow,2 
From  even  unto  morrow, 
Thou  spekis  ever  of  sorrow; 
God  send  thee  onys  thi  fill. 

Women  may  well  curse  all  ill  husbands,  she  adds  —  and 
one  such,  by  Mary,  has  she;  but  she  knows  how  to 
bide  her  time  to  "  qwyte  hym  his  mede  "  : 

1  try.  2  security. 


170      PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

Noe..  We !  hold  thi  tone,  ram-sky t,  or  I  shall  thee  still. 
Uxor.  By  my  thryft,  it  thou  smyte  I  shall  turne  thee 

untill. 
Noe.  We  shall  assay  as  tyte !:  have  at  thee,  Gyll ! 

Apon  the  bone  shall  it  byte     (He  strikes  her). 
Uxor.  Ah,  so,  mary  !  thou  smytis  ill ! 

Bot  I  suppose 
I  shall  not  in  thi  det, 
Fflyt  of  this  flett ! 2 
Take  thee  ther  a  langett 

To  tye  up  thi  hose !      (She  strikes  back.) 

And  so  the  quarrel  goes :  she  promising  three  blows  for 
two,  biting  and  shrieking  withal,  till  Noe  declares  for  a 
truce  for  he  has  other  work  to  do.  She  says  no  man 
shall  tarry  him  :  as  for  her  "  to  spyn  will  I  dress  me." 
He  begs  her  to  pray  for  him  busily.  "  Even  as  thou 
prays  for  me  !  "  and  exit  Gyll. 

Scene  III.  The  Forest  as  before.  Noe  falls  to  work 
upon  the  ark ;  in  the  first  stanza  lays  out  the  measure- 
ments and  bends  his  bones  to  the  tree ;  in  the  second, 
takes  off  his  gown  and  works  in  his  coat  at  the  mast  and 
wonders  when  his  back  will  break ;  in  the  third  makes 
top  and  sail,  helm  and  castle,  and  drives  the  nails  through 
the  boards ;  in  the  fourth,  builds  window  and  door  and 
three  chambers  "  as  God  had  said,"  pitches  them  well, 
thanks  God  that  the  labour  is  fulfilled,  and  hies  him  to 
fetch  his  wife  and  meiny. 

Scene  IV.  Noes  House.  "  Why,  syr,  what  ails  you ?  " 
cries  she.  No  one  is  hurting  you,  but  if  you  feel  afraid 
you  had  better  run  away.  "  There  is  other  yarn  on  the 
reel,  my  dame,"  replies  he,  and  proceeds  to  inform  her 
of  the  approaching  flood.  She  is  dazed,  and  dodders  for 

1  try  it  at  once.  2  flee  from  this  flat. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          171 

fear  of  the  tale,  and  with  her  sons  prepares  to  "trus  the 
gear  " ;  but  when  it  comes  to  getting  it  into  the  ark,  — 

I  was  never  barred  ere,  as  ever  myght  I  the l 

In  sich  an  oostre2  as  this. 
In  faith  I  can  not  fynd 
Which  is  before,  which  is  behynd, 
Bot  shall  we  here  be  pyned, 
Noe,  as  have  thou  blis  ? 

Noe.    Dame,  as  it  is  skill,  here  must  us  abide  grace ; 

Therefore,  wife,   with    good  will,  come   into  this 

place. 

Uxor.  Sir,  for  Jak  nor  for  Gyll,  will  I  turne  my  face 
Till  I  have  on  this  hill,  spon  a  space 
On  my  rok.3 

The  heavens  open ;  it  thunders  and  lightens ;  down 
come  halls  and  bowers,  castles  and  towers. 

Therefor,  wife,  have  done !     Come  into  ship  fast. 
Uxor.    Yei,  Noe,  go  cloute  thi  shoon ;    the  better  will 
they  last. 

The  sons'  wives  take  a  hand,  but  in  faith  yet  will  she 
spin ;  all  in  vain  do  they  carp.  "  If  ye  like,"  says  one 
more  wily  than  the  rest,  probably  Japhet's  mulier,  "  If 
ye  like,  ye  may  spin,  mother,  in  the  ship.''  And  Noe 
announces  the  second  call  for  embarkation,  "dame,  on 
my  friendship."  Whereupon,  Gyll  — 

Wheder  I  lose  or  wyn,  in  faith,  thi  felowship, 
Set  I  not  at  a  pyn,  this  spyndill  will  I  slip 

Apon  this  hill 
Or  I  styr  oone  fote. 

She  changes  her  mind  when  the  water  "  nighs  so  near 
that  she  sits  not  dry,"  and  hies  her  toward  ship  with  a 

1  thrive.  2  hostelry.  8  distaff. 


172      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

"  byr."  "In  faith,  and  for  your  long  tarrying,"  cries  Noe, 
"ye  shall  lick  on  the  whip."  She  retorts,  "  Big  words 
don't  hurt."  He  bids  her  cry  him  "Mercy!"  She 
wishes  she  were  a  widow,  she  would  n't  grudge  a  mass- 
penny  for  his  soul ;  and  she  sees  many  a  wife  in  the 
audience  that  would  hail  like  deliverance.  Noe  rejoins 
with  sprightly  advice : 

Ye  men  that  has  wifis,  whyls  they  ar  yong, 
If  ye  luf  youre  lifis  chastice  thare  tong: 
Me  thynk  my  hert  ryfis  both  levyr  and  long1 
To  see  sich  stryfis  wedmen  emong, 

Bot  I, 

As  have  I  blys, 
Shall  chastyse  this. 
Uxor.    Yit  mary  ye  mys, 
Nicholl  nedy ! 

More  picturesque  repartee.  He  cudgels  her  and  catches 
a  beating  in  turn.  In  fine,  all  passion  spent,  they  enter 
the  ark. 

Scene  V.  In  the  Ark  The  parents  are  upbraided  by 
the  three  sons.  "  We  will  do  as  ye  bid  us ;  we  will  be 
no  more  wroth,  dear  bairns,"  and  Noe  "  hents  to  the 
helm."  Gyll  takes  interest  in  the  spectacle  of  the  heav- 
ens and  of  the  rising  flood.  In  good  counsel  and  obe- 
dience she  continues,  till  the  "  hillys  of  Armonye " 
are  touched,  and  the  voyage  brought  to  its  traditional 
conclusion. 

To  the  crude  conception,  somewhat  scanty  humour,  and 
deficient  "  business  "  of  the  York  play  the  Wakefield  has 
added  the  element  of  surprise  (consider  the  satisfaction 
of  the  female  spectators  when  Uxor  retreats  after  having 
once  consented  to  enter  the  ark),  variety  and  rapidity  of 

1  my  heart  bursts,  and  my  liver  and  lungs. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          173 

action,  vivid  reproduction  of  human  ways,  and  local 
manners,  racy  speech,  familiar  idiom  —  if  not  the  thrust 
and  parry,  at  any  rate  the  quarter-staff  of  tongues,  a 
reckless  humour,  and  a  rhythmic  swing. 

His   RELATION    TO   THE    SCHOOL   OF    REALISM 

Passing  now  to  those  parts  of  the  two  cycles  most 
marked  by  methods  of  the  realist,  and  still  confining  our 
selection  from  the  Wakefield  plays  to  those  written  in 
the  nine-line  stanza,  we  note  that  approximately  the  'same 
relation  obtains  between  the  realism  of  Wakefield  and  the 
later  York  School  as  that  which  held  true  of  the  humour 
of  Wakefield  and  the  middle  school  of  York.  As  said 
before,  the  portraiture  of  manners  by  the  York  play- 
wright appears  to  best  advantage  in  some  half-dozen 
plays,  XXVI,  XXVIII,  XXIX,  XXX,  XXXI, 
XXXIII,  etc.,  which  elaborate  the  preliminaries  of  the 
crucifixion,  especially  those  in  which  Herod,  the  Beadle, 
Caiaphas  and  Annas,  Judas  and  the  Janitor,  Pilate  and 
Percula,  figure.  The  Herod  of  the  York  plays,  wher- 
ever he  appears,  is  of  uniform  character.  But  there  are 
two  entirely  distinct  presentments  of  him  in  the  cycle 
of  Wakefield :  that  of  Herod  the  Great,  written  in  the 
nine-line  stanza,  and  that  of  the  Magi,  written  in  a 
different  stanza  (a  a  a  b  a  b)  and  a  more  alliterative  verse. 
The  Herod  of  the  latter  is  a  chip  of  the  York  blockj 
boastful  and  abusive,  but  aimless  in  his  bombast,  trusting 
to  noise  and  a  scattering  fire ;  whereas  the  Herod  of  the 
former,  in  the  Wakefield  nine-line  stanza,  though  he  may 
rant  and  brag,  is  direct,  personal,  and  concrete.  He  is  of 
the  stuff  of  the  craftsman  that  plays  him.  The  very  lilt 
of  his  metre  is  provocative  of  laughter ;  so,  also,  are  the 
metres  of  his  Nuncius :  the  rapid  succession  of  rhymes, 


174      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

often  double  rhymes  at  that,  the  jocosity  of  vituperation, 
its  figurative  as  well  as  mouth-filling  finality  — 

Ffor  if  I  beggyn  I  breke  ilka  bone 
And  pull  fro  the  skyn  the  carcas  anone, 
Yei,  perde ! 

But  it  is  when  we  consider  the  subtler  qualities  of 
style,  mock-heroic  and  double-edged,  that  we  descry  the 
Master.  In  the  grotesque  cosmography  of  Herod's 
dominions  — 

Tuskane  and  Turky, 
All  Inde  and  Italy, 
Sicily  and  Surrey 

Drede  hym  and  dowtys. 

From  Paradyse  to  Padua,  to  Mount  Flascon ; 
From  Sarceny  to  Susa,  to  Grece  it  abowne ; 
From  Egyp  to  Mantua,  unto  Kemptown ; 
Both  Normondy  and  Norwa  lowtys  to  his  crown ; 

His  renowne 
Can  no  tong  tell, 
From  heven  unto  hell ; 
Of  hym  can  none  spell 
Bot  his  cosyn  Mahowne ; 

in  the  reference  to  familiar  interests  of  the  audience,  to 
the  "  Tales  "  of  Boethius,  the  Epistles,  the  Holy  Grail ; 
in  the  sly  literary  criticism  and  the  satire  on  ecclesiastical 
preferments  (for  Herod  swears,  if  he  lives  in  land  the 
Councillor  who  moved  the  massacre  of  the  infants  shall 
yet  be  Pope);  in  the  burlesque  of  that  massacre  — 
"  Dame,"  courteously  ventures  the  murderous  Miles, 
"  think  it  not  ill,  thy  child  if  I  kill " ;  in  the  bargaining 
between  Herod  with  his  knights  and  his  promise  of 
payment  (next  time  he  comes)  —  in  all  this  there  is  a 
marked  advance  upon  the  portrayal  of  character  and 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          175 

manners  and  the  verisimilitude  of  thought  and  expression 
afforded  by  the  herodiacs  of  York.  And  this  parallel  is 
the  more  instructive  because  while  the  general  treatment 
of  this  subject1  in  the  Wakefield  is  so  like  that  of  the 
York,  the  common  characteristics  of  these  two  versions 
are  distinct  from  the  Chester  and  N-Town  plays.  We, 
therefore,  cannot  but  suppose  that  the  chief  dramatist 
of  Wakefield  took  the  York  plays  as  his  model.  He 
achieves,  however,  an  independent  result. 

The  York  Janitor  and  the  Pilate,  Percula  and  Beadle 
of  the  domestic  scene,  are  not  reproduced  in  the  Wake- 
field  cycle.  The  Judas,  indeed,  reappears  in  the  Con- 
spiracy^ written  in  an  old  York  metre  and  probably 
borrowed  from  a  discarded  York  original ;  but  there  is 
no  trace  of  the  Wakefield  Master  in  his  construction. 
Wherever  the  dramatist  of  the  nine-line  stanza  touches  a 
character,  he  endows  it  with  qualities  unmistakable,  and 
unknown  to  the  other  cycles  —  making  for  a  more  artis- 
tic realism.  To  the  Conspiracy -,  for  instance,  he  prefixes 
six  stanzas,  and  in  them  causes  Pilate,  sitting  upon  the 
bench,  to  display  a  political  shrewdness  of  which  his 
continuator  in  the  rest  of  the  pageant  was  utterly  inca- 
pable : 

Ffor  I  am  he  that  may  make  or  mar  a  man ; 
Myself  if  I  it  say,  as  men  of  cowrte  now  can  ; 
Supporte  a  man  to-day,  to-morn  agans  hym  than, 
On  both  parties  thus  I  play,  And  fenys 2  me  to  ordan 

The  right ; 
Bot  all  fals  indytars, 
Questmangers  and  jurers, 
And  all  thise  fals  outrydars, 

Ar  welcom  to  my  sight. 

1  See  Hohlfeld  on  W.  XVI  and  Y.  XIX.  »  feigns. 


176       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

This  Pilate  is  the  first  trimmer  in  English  comedy. 
His  development  continues  through  the  first  half  of  the 
Wakefield  Scourging,  and  the  whole  of  the  Talents. 
He  is  a  vastly  improved  edition  of  a  quondam  York 
Pilate,  of  whom  traces  can  still  be  found  in  other  parts  of 
the  Wakefield.  The  earlier  Pilate  was  timid  and  in- 
genuous ;  the  latter  is  full  of  subtlety,  breeze,  and  wit, 
and  wholly  given  over  to  jokes  and  Latin  tags  and  maca- 
ronic verses.  Like  most  of  the  characters  created  by 
the  Master,  he  is  of  proverbial  philosophy  compact. 
The  clue  to  the  procurator's  character  as  given  above  is 
repeated  in  the  second  stanza  of  the  Scourging,  the  refrain 
of  which  is  in  the  same  words  and  verse  as  Conspiracy,  3, 
although  the  earlier  part  of  the  stanza  doubles  the  metre 
of  the  nine-line  stanza.  This  is  interesting  because  it 
proves  that  there  is  some  connection  between  the  Mas- 
ter's productions  and  those  of  some  Wakefield  experi- 
menter who  followed  or  preceded  him,1  or  that  the 
Master  was  capable  at  times  of  varying  his  stanza. 

In  the  Wakefield  cycle  there  is,  of  course,  much  real- 
ism of  a  powerful  and  grim  kind  that  cannot  be  attributed 
to  the  Player-clerk.  The  preparations  for  the  crucifixion, 
the  wrenching  of  Christ's  body  to  fit  the  cross,  the 
binding  and  the  nailing,  the  jolting  of  the  timber  into 
the  mortice,  the  jesting  and  jeering  of  the  torturers,  are 
a  distinct  counterpart  of  the  Crucifixio  Cristi  of  York. 
They  bear  no  mark  of  our  dramatist.  Their  art  is  the 
transcript  of  the  physically  horrible,  their  style  the 
straightforward,  grisly  poetising  of  the  "pynner"  or 
the  "  paynter."  How  different  the  proverbial  philosophy, 
the  side-play,  the  shading  of  character,  the  subtle  shift 
of  motive  and  incident,  the  allusive  quality,  the  ironic 
1  XXII,  1-4;  XXIII,  2  ;  XXVII,  30. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          177 

sophistry,  the  Latinism,  the  vocabulary,  the  sign-manual, 
in  short,  of  the  Player-clerk,  may  be  seen  if  one  turns  to 
the  Wakefield  Coliphizacio,  all  of  which  is  in  his  stanza, 
or  to  stanzas  5  to  27  of  the  Fflagellacio,  which  are  also 
undoubtedly  his.  In  the  latter  play  the  difference  stands 
out  the  more  strikingly  because  the  remaining  and  older 
half  is  based  upon  York  XXXIV,  Christ  Led  Up  to 
Calvary,  and  from  stanza  42  on  literally  copied  from  it. 
While  portions  written  by  the  Master  do  not  balk  at 
the  cruelty  appropriate  to  the  subject  of  buffeting  and 
scourging,  they  refrain  from  repulsive  detail. 

The  Wakefield  Master  is  no  sentimentalist.  His 
anger  is  sudden  as  his  sympathy.  Always  genially  iron- 
ical, he  displays  in  his  revision  of  the  Judicium  his  full 
power  as  a  satirist.  Here,  as  I  have  already  elsewhere 
said,  his  hatred  of  oppression,  his  scorn  of  vice  and  self- 
love,  his  contempt  of  sharp  and  shady  practice  in  kirk  or 
court,  upon  the  bench,  behind  the  counter,  and  in  the 
home,  are  welded  into  one  and  brought  to  edge  and 
point.  He  strikes  hard  when  he  will,  but  he  has  the 
comic  sense  and  spares  to  slay.  We  may  hear  him 
chuckling,  this  dramatic  contemporary  of  Chaucer,  as 
he  pricks  the  bubble  of  fashion,  lampoons  Lollard  and 
"  kyrkchaterar "  alike,  and  parodies  the  latinity  of  his 
age.  When  his  demons  speak,  the  syllables  leap  in 
rhythmic  haste,  the  rhymes  beat  a  tattoo,  and  the  stanzas 
hurtle  by.  Manners,  morals,  folly,  and  loose  living  are 
writ  large  and  pinned  to  the  caitiff.  But  the  poet  be- 
hind the  satire  is  ever  the  same,  sound  in  his  domestic, 
social,  political  philosophy,  constant  in  his  sympathy 
with  the  down-trodden  and  in  his  godly  fear. 

Doomsday  is  at  hand :  the  souls  have  fled  from  hell ; 
the   devils,  too,  are  out,  and  one  here  tells  his    fellow 

12 


178       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

that  he  must  betake  himself  to  judgment  like  a  peer  to 
Parliament.  Up  Watling  Street  shall  be  his  way,  but  in 
sooth  they  had  rather  be  making  three  whole  pilgrimages 
to  Rome.  Their  books  they  must  take  with  them  for 
evidence  against  the  damned,  and  books  they  have  full 
of  all  kinds  of  sinners: 

Of  wraggers  and  wrears  a  bag  full  of  brefes, 
Of  carpars  and  cryars,  of  mychers  and  thefes, 
Of  lurdans  and  lyars  that  no  man  lefys 
Of  fly  tars,  of  flyars  and  renderars  of  reffys.1 

The  first  demon  asks  if  there  is  anger  in  their  record. 
There  is  anger,  and  treachery,  too.  "  Hast  thou  ought 
written  there,"  says  the  first,  "  of  the  femynyn  gendere  ?  " 
"  Yei,  mo  than  I  may  bere,"  says  the  second,  "  of  rolles 
forto  render"  — 

Thai  are  sharp  as  a  spear,  if  thai  seem  but  slender 
Thai  ar  ever  in  were  if  thai  be  tender, 

Illfetyld; 

She  that  is  most  meke, 
When  she  semys  full  seke, 
She  can  rase  vp  a  reke 

If  she  be  well  nettyld.2 

"  Make  ready  our  tools,"  continues  the  first,  "  for  we 
deal  with  no  fools."  "  Yea,  Sir,"  says  the  second,  warn- 
ingly,  "it  is  high  time  for  us  to  act,"  for  — 

had  domysday  oght  tarid 
We  must  have  bigged  hell  more,  the  warld  is  so  warid.3 

1  wranglers,  wrigglers,  carpers,  cryers,  pilferers,  thieves,  louts,  liars 
that  no  man  believes,  quarrelers,  '*  flyers,"  and  restorers  of  stolen  goods. 

a  They  are  ever  in  doubt ;  never  ready  ;  can  stir  up  smoke  when 
once  well  nettled. 

*  If  Doomsday  had  been  delayed,  we  must  have  built  an  addition  to 
Hell,  the  world  is  so  cursed. 


Devils  and  Cauldron 
From  "Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  literature  francaise" 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          179 

Faith  and  truth  have  no  feet  upon  which  to  stand,  the 
poor  people  must  bear  all  the  burdens,  God  is  no  longer 
dreaded,  and  by  that  we  know  that  doomsday  is  at  hand. 
"  Sir,"  says  the  second  demon, 

it  is  saide  in  old  sawes  — 
The  longere  that  day  dawes  — 
"Wars  pepill  wars  lawes." 

"I  laugh,"  says  the  first  demon,  "at  thy  reason."  To 
them  enters  then  the  hero  of  that  ilk,  Tutivillus,  regis- 
trar to  the  devil,  once  their  chief  tollsman  "  and  sithen 
courte  rollar  [recorder],"  but  now  "master  lollar  [lollard]." 
He  has  brought  in  a  single  hour  his  thousands  to  hell : 
the  fool  who  dresses  finely  and  leaves  his  children  bread- 
less,  and  the  woman  who  shrouds  her  ugliness  with 
vanities,  — 

When  she  is  thus  paynt, 
She  makys  it  so  quaynte, 
She  lookys  like  a  saynt,  — 
And  wars  than  the  deyl. 

Then,  in  rapid  file,  step  forth  for  condemnation  the 
fashions  of  the  day  and  the  souls  that  flock  to  the  world 
below :  harlots  and  bawds ;  liars,  scolds,  extortioners, 
usurers,  and  backbiters ;  so  that  in  sooth  the  porter  shall 
have  old  turning  the  key.  Hell  is  full  and  doomsday 
can  no  longer  be  delayed. 

Such  is  the  flavour  of  the  plays  in  nine-line  stanza  which 
it  is  comfortable,  and  perhaps  not  utterly  unscientific,  to 
attribute  to  some  one  poet :  a  younger  contemporary  of 
Chaucer,  perhaps.  No  two  men  could  have  possessed  a 
style  compounded  of  elements  in  just  such  collocation 
and  proportion  or  have  produced  results  so  uniform. 
Nor  does  any  other  writer  of  the  Wakefield  cycle  ap- 
proach this  style. 


i8o       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

His  MASTERPIECE;  AND  OTHER  ATTRIBUTIONS 
When  one  considers  the  uniformity  of  style,  temper, 
scholarship,  and  verse  of  the  group  of  plays  more  or  less 
inspired  by  the  York  schools  of  humour  and  realism  — 
and  their  distinctive  character,  withal:  their  Latinity, 
joviality,  and  satiric  indirection  —  one  is  tempted  not 
merely  to  assign  them  to  a  single  author,  but  with  Leach 
and  Pollard  to  figure  him  concretely  as  some  whilom 
clerk  of  Oxford  or  of  Cambridge :  not  a  monk,  indeed, 
but  some  "jolly  Absalon "  who  played  by  times  on 
"  scaffold  high  "  his  Herod  and  his  Pilate  both,  —  mayhap 
his  Noe,  and  Mak,  the  sheep-thief,  too.  I  have  men- 
tioned in  passing  the  masterpiece  of  the  nine-line  stanza 
in  which  Mak  and  the  shepherds  prelude  the  birth  of 
Christ.  This  little  English  comedy,  the  Secunda  Pas- 
torum,  gathers  in  itself  the  qualities  already  noted  in  the 
playwright's  other  work,  and  adds  a  technique  surpassing 
that  of  any  drama  up  to  that  time  written.1  The  only 
preceding  play  that  can  bear  comparison  with  it  from  the 
point  of  view  of  realism  and  of  that  shrewd  reflection  of 
contemporary  conditions  which  makes  for  interest,  is  the 
Prima  Pastorum  of  the  same  author.  But  the  Prima  is 
rather  a  dramatic  idyll  than  a  comedy  ;  for  though  it 
possesses  comic  motive  and  dialogue,  it  lacks  comic  action. 
It  is  a  pastoral  picture  in  most  diverting  panels.  What 
could  be  more  humorous  than  the  little  scene  where  Gyb, 
going  to  buy  sheep,  quarrels  with  his  friend  Home  as  to 
where  he  shall  pasture  them,  though  they  are  not  yet 
bought,  and  shouts  to  his  bell-wether  to  possess  the 

1  In  my  Star  of  Bethlehem,  as  played  by  Mr.  Ben  Greet's  company, 
an  attempt  has  been  made  to  revive  this  and  other  Nativity  plays,  and 
adapt  them  to  modern  requirements  (Dufficld  and  Company  :  N.  Y., 
1904). 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          181 

land?  When  Home  won't  let  the  imaginary  wether 
obey,  and  Gyb  threatens  to  break  his  head,  up  comes  in 
a  lucky  moment  Slowpace,  discovers  that  they  are  match- 
ing castles  in  Spain,  and,  like  a  fourteenth-century  Sam 
Weller,  takes  the  conceit  out  of  both  by  his  story  of 
Moll,  who,  while  casting  up  the  account  of  her  fictitious 
flocks,  absent-mindedly  broke  her  pitcher  into  shards : 

"  Ho,  God,"  she  sayde, 
But  oone  shepe  yit  she  hade, 
The  mylk  pycher  was  layde, 

The  skarthis  was  the  tokyn. 

To  conclude  the  matter,  Slowpace  bids  the  disputants 
hold  his  mare  while  he  shakes  his  sack  empty  to  sym- 
bolise the  condition  of  their  wits. 

Nothing  like  this  had  been  produced  by  way  of  comic 
scene  before,  and  few  things  by  way  of  native  humour. 
But  the  Prima  cannot  compare  with  the  Secunda  in  move- 
ment. From  that  point  of  view  the  only  play  compar- 
able is  the  Shepherds'  Play  of  Chester.  Whether  that  was 
written  somewhat  earlier  or  somewhat  later,  we  cannot 
say  ;  but  that  it  resembles  the  Wakefield  masterpiece 
in  the  attempt  to  reproduce  pastoral  life  and  manners  is 
indubitable,  though  in  technique,  as  well  as  tone  and 
style,  it  is  inferior. 

The  Chester  pastoral  opens  with  a  shepherd  gathering 
simples  for  his  flock ;  and  it  furnishes  us  with  a  joint 
dinner  like  the  Wakefield  plays,  with  a  wrestling  match 
between  the  boy  Trowle  and  his  three  masters,  and  with 
the  singing  of  the  angels  and  the  usual  colloquy  concern- 
ing the  Latin  of  the  song.  The  boy  Trowle,  indeed  a 
most  lethargic  and  humorous  lout,  is  one  of  the  originals 
of  miracle  comedy.  A  blander  mode  than  his  of  directing 
a  passing  traveller  would  be  difficult  to  devise: 


1 82       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Yf  any  man  come  me  bye 

And  would  witte  which  waie  were  beste : 

My  leg  I  lifte  up  as  I  lye 

And  wishe  hym  the  waie  este  or  weste. 

But  the  comic  bustle  of  this  pastoral  is  action  with- 
out progress ;  the  Wakefield  Secunda,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  plot  within  plot,  developed  through  eight  closely 
consecutive  scenes,  and  crowded  with  action.  The  comic 
adventure  is  indeed  but  an  episode, — this  "sheep  steal- 
ing of  Male,"  -  but  it  has  its  beginning,  middle,  and  end  ; 
the  motive,  the  devices,  and  the  progress  of  a  comedietta 
in  itself.  It  grows  out  of  and  belongs  to  the  conditions 
with  which  the  enveloping  action  opens,  and  its  party  of 
the  second  part  are  also  dramatic  persons  in  the  main 
action.  From  every  point  of  view  —  conception,  con- 
struction, effect  —  up  to  the  end  of  the  Mak  episode,  it 
is  quite  on  a  level  with  Pathelin  vint  au  vin,  or  with  any- 
thing that  John  Heywood  has  written.  In  power  of 
observation,  as  well  as  in  the  reproduction  of  every-day 
life,  it  excels  Tom  Tyler,  Thersytes,  or  any  other  play 
written  before  the  sixteenth  century.  As  a  work  of 
dramatic  genius  this  little  play,  with  its  home-made  phi- 
losophy, home-made  figures,  and  home-made  humour, 
with  its  comic  business,  its  sometimes  boisterous  spirits, 
its  quiet  and  shrewd  irony,  its  ludicrous  diction,  its  reve- 
lation of  rural  manners,  its  simple  and  healthful  creed, 
its  radiant  and  naive  devoutness,  its  dramatic  anticipa- 
tions, postponements,  and  surprises,  stands  out  English 
and  alone,  and  a  masterpiece. 

The  plot  is  so  well  known  that  an  outline  would  be 
superfluous ;  but  I  doubt  whether  sufficient  attention 
has  been  directed  to  the  realistic  portrayal  of  its  characters  : 
Coll,  the  first  shepherd,  who  soliloquises  concerning 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          183 

political  philosophy,  a  kind  of  later  fourteenth-century 
populist  whom  it  refreshes  to  grumble : 

It  dos  me  good,  as  I  walk  thus  by  myn  oone, 
Of  this  warld  for  to  talk  in  maner  of  mone ; 

Gyb,  the  second  shepherd,  whose  vein  is  of  matrimonial 
philosophy,  and  whose  dame  — 

As  sharp  as  a  thystyll,  as  rough  as  a  brere, 
Browed  like  a  brystyll  with  a  sowre-loten  chere,1 

who  therefore  counts  it  a  marvel  due  to  destiny  that  — 

Som  men  wyll  have  two  wyfs  and  som  men  three 

In  store  — 
Som  are  wo  that  has  any ! 

and  Daw,  the  hind,  whose  philosophy  is  eclectic,  who 
swears  by  the  unborn  Christ  and  Saint  Nicholas,  and 
"  lets  the  world  pass."  He  it  is  who  sees  "  sudden 
sights  in  the  darkness " ;  who  warns  of  the  midnight- 
stalking  Mak ;  who  makes  that  "  Yoman  "  of  the  king 
lie  safely  down  between  them ;  it  is  he,  too,  who  dreams 
of  the  stolen  sheep  and  conducts  the  vain  search  there- 
for ;  and  who,  fortunately  flinging  back  to  Mak's  home 
to  give  the  hypothetical  babe  "  that  lytyll  day  starne  "  a 
"  saxpence,"  lifts  up  the  clout  and  diagnoses  the  fraud 
that  has  been  practised  upon  them.  Mak  himself  is  a 
piece  of  characterisation  of  which  a  nineteenth-century 
dramatist  need  not  be  ashamed.  Behold  him  slinking 
in  by  night  with  his  habit  of  disguise  and  his  "  southern 
tooth  "  and  his  sanctimonious  plaint  — 

Now  wold  God  I  were  in  heven, 
For  there  wepe  no  barnes.2 

1  sour-looking  face.  2  bairns. 


184       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Mark  his  delicate  taste,  his  delicious  hypocrisy  !  But 
mark  with  greater  admiration  still  that  worthy  seconder 
of  his  wiles,  his  somewhat  unduly  prolific  wife,  Gyll, 
who,  confined  of  the  "  borrowed  sheep,"  declines  the 
approach  of  visitors  for  no  less  reason  than  that  — 

Ich  fote  that  ye  trede  goys  thorow  my  nese l  — 
Sohee! 

This  comedy,  with  its  background  of  reality,  and  its 
atmosphere  of  worship  when  once  the  Stable  is  in  sight, 
is  the  climax  of  the  dramatic  movement  present  in  the 
York  cycle  and  forwarded  by  those  portions  of  the 
Wakefield  which  we  have  described.  It  so  completely 
eclipses  the  York  play  of  The  Angels  and  the  Shepherds, 
that  if  it  were  not  for  the  effort  of  the  Second  York 
Shepherd  to  imitate  the  angelic  choir,  and  the  rustic 
naivete  of  the  adoration  in  the  Stable,  the  kinship  of 
the  two  plays  would  be  difficult  to  trace.  The  N-Town, 
indeed,  shows  a  closer  resemblance  to  the  York  in  matters 
of  detail,  and  the  Chester  to  the  Wakefield,  than  the 
Wakefield  and  the  York  show  to  each  other.  It  must, 
however,  still  be  conceded  that,  in  spirit  and  manner, 
the  Wakefield  Prima  and  Secunda  Pastorum,  though  not 
derived  from  the  corresponding  York  play,  are  but  the 
full  flower  of  the  comic  and  realistic  promise  of  the 
York  cycle. 

In  the  contributions  passed  in  review  there  is  enough 
to  characterise  a  comic  dramatist;  but  if  we  turn  from 
the  plays  in  the  nine-line  stanza  to  the  only  other  dis- 
tinctively comic  pageants  of  the  cycle,  —  namely,  the 
Mactacio  Abel  and  'The  Talents,  —  we  cannot  long  refrain 

1  goes  through  my  nose. 


THE   WAKEFIELD    MASTER          185 

from    deciding   that   they,   also,   owe   somewhat  to  the 
Wakefield  Master. 

The  Wakefield  killing  of  Abel  is  probably  a  revision 
of  an  earlier  play  in  its  own  cycle.  It  is  certainly  later 
than  the  York  (VII),  which  is  unfortunately  a  fragment, 
and  not  even  itself  one  of  the  parent  cycle.  These, 
again,  are  more  mature,  and  probably  of  later  composi- 
tion than  the  N-Town  and  Chester  plays  upon  the  sub- 
ject, especially  the  latter.  I  have  already  said  that  the 
oldest  treatment  of  the  Abel,  the  Cornish,  was  destitute 
of  humour.  The  next  oldest,  the  Chester,  is  not  only 
grim,  but  very  crude.  Its  successor  of  N-Town  conceives 
the  churlish  Cain  of  Chester  with  pith  and  merriment, 
but  fails  to  elaborate  the  possibilities  of  action  between 
the  brothers.  What  is  left  of  the  York  play  is  full  of 
dramatic  life  :  Cain  is  a  swaggering  devil,  who  curses 
God  and  His  angel,  and  deliberately  tries  to  thrash  the 
latter.  As  the  extant  portion  of  this  play  may  have 
suggested  to  the  Wakefield  the  discussion  between  Cain 
and  Abel,  so  the  original  servant  or  garcio  of  the  York 
(who  becomes  Brewbarret  in  the  later  edition)  was  prob- 
ably the  prototype  of  Cayme's  garcio,  Pikeharnes,  in  the 
Wakefield.  The  garcio  in  both  is  the  forerunner  of  the 
impudent  underling  in  English  comedy,  and  the  Cayme 
is  a  model  of  rusticity  and  irreverence.  The  characterisa- 
tion is  effected  largely  by  the  contrast  between  Cayme's 
behaviour  and  Abel's.  "  God  has  ever  yit  byn  my  fo," 
cries  the  reckless  skeptic  of  the  Wakefield  play.  And 
when  he  has  sought  to  defraud  God  of  his  burnt-offering 
and  the  Lord  appears  to  rebuke  him,  — 

"  Why !  "  cries  he,  "  who  is  that  hob-over-the-wall  ? 
We !  who  was  that  that  piped  so  small  ?    .  .  .  ' 


1 86      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  Wakefield  Abel  is  an  episode  of  painful  reality, 
with  a  tragic  element,  to  be  sure,  but  with  more  of  the 
spice  of  comedy  than  had  appeared  in  previous  plays 
upon  the  subject.  The  author  is  a  close  observer  of  the 
Wakefield  swains ;  and  here  they  live  perennial  with 
bucolic  apothegm  and  pungent  phrase,  —  cunning  fel- 
lows, close-fisted,  bargaining  with  the  spiritual.  "  Never 
yet,"  says  Cain,  "  have  I  borrowed  a  farthing  of  God  "  ; 
he  will  consequently  apportion  to  the  Almighty  but  one- 
twentieth  of  the  harvest,  and  that  the  worst.  The  rela- 
tions between  Cain  and  Pikeharnes  are  caught  out  of 
reality  :  the  details  of  farm  life,  the  ploughing,  the  ob- 
jurgation of  Donnyng,  the  mare.  The  technique  of  the 
play  is  also  noteworthy  for  its  "  asides  '*  and  mock- 
echoes,  its  variety  of  scene,  and  its  elaborate  movement. 
The  final  reviser,  our  Wakefield  Master,  I  think  (for 
these  that  I  have  recited  are  ear-marks  of  his  drama- 
turgy), has  not  only  added  the  last  two  stanzas  in  his 
favourite  form,  but  has  lent  spice  to  the  first  seven.  It 
was  probably  he  who,  leaving  the  other  stanzas  much  as 
they  were,  heightened  the  characterisation  of  Cain  and 
his  boy,  enriched  their  speech  with  proverbs,  and  made 
of  Abel  something  other  than  the  milksop  presented  in 
the  earlier  cycles.  My  word  for  dialectal  peculiarities  is 
not  worth  much,  but  I  must  say  that  in  the  livelier  parts 
of  this  play  the  language  appears  to  be  of  a  piece  with 
that  of  the  Prima  and  Secunda  Pastorum. 

The  Processus  Talentorumy  or  The  Casting  of  Lots,  gives 
evidence  of  three  strata  of  composition,  of  which  the 
last,  an  introduction  of  five  stanzas  and  an  epilogue  of 
five  more,  is  not  only  in  the  strophe  but  the  phrase 
and  temper  of  the  Wakefield  Master.  The  racy  dia- 
logue, the  characterisation,  and  the  rapid  movement  of 


THE   WAKEFIELD   MASTER          187 

the  play  proper  also  betray  the  shaping  hand  of  an  artist. 
In  many  a  humorous  touch  I  think  that  I  recognise 
the  impress  of  ours.  Nothing  more  natural  than  to  re- 
vive the  colours  when  one  is  framing  the  picture.  The 
frame  itself  is  in  his  most  distinctive  style,  —  quaint, 
original,  brilliant,  surprising.  There  is  no  mistaking 
him  in  the  subtlety  and  satire,  the  goliardic  verses  of 
Pilate  calling  for  silence  and  obedience, — 

Stynt,  I  say !  gyf  men  place :  quia  sum  dominus  domi- 

norum  ! 

He  that  agans  me  says :  rapietur  lux  oculorum  ; 
Therefor  gyf  ye  me  space  :  ne  tendam  vim  brachiorum, 
And  then  get  ye  no  grace :  contestor  lura  polorum, 

Caveatis ; 
Rewle  I  the  lure, 
Maxime  pure, 
Towne  quoque  rure, 

Me  paveatis, — 

He  is  in  the  double  rhymes,  the  rapid  lilt,  the  cogni- 
sance of  contemporary  foible  and  custom,  the  boisterous 
humour,  and  the  gluttony  of  words.  The  play  proper  is 
cast  principally  in  a  stanzaic  mould  not  elsewhere  found 
in  the  Wakefield  cycle.  "  Fellows,"  says  the  third 
torturer,  when  the  three  having  agreed  to  cast  dice  with 
Pilate  for  the  seamless  coat,  the  highest  throw  falls  to 
himself: 

Felowse,  in  forward  here  have  I  fifteene  ! 
As  ye  wote  I  am  worthi,  won  is  this 

Weed. 
Pilatus.     What,  whistyll  ye  in  the  wenyande  !  * 

Where  have  ye  been  ? 
Thou  shall  abak,  bewshere,2  that  blast  I 
forbede. 

1  in  the  unlucky  waning  of  the  moon.  2  beau  sire. 


1 88      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Tercius  Tortor.     Here  are  men  us  emang 

Lele  in  our  lay,  will  Ty  for  no  leyd 
And  I  wytnes  at  thaym  if  I  wroght  any 
wrang.1 

This  hurrying  a  b  a  b4  c2  b4  c4  of  iambs  and  anapaests  dif- 
fers materially  from  its  wooden  congener  of  York  XIV, 
XXI,  and  XXV,  and  has,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  no 
analogue  in  the  other  cycles.  It  fits  itself  readily  to  the 
adjacent  stanzas  of  nine  lines ;  it  conveys  at  various 
points  material  suggestive  of  the  nine-line  versifier,  and 
betrays  his  facile  turn  for  comic  situation. 

Of  the  unique  idiom  of  those  through  whom  the 
Wakefield  Master  speaks  sporadic  instances  have  al- 
ready been  cited ;  but  I  cannot  leave  him  without  plac- 
ing a  few  more  on  record.  "  Sir,  as  I  am  true  knight," 
says  the  first  torturer,  "of  my  dame  since  I  sucked  had 
I  never  such  a  night"  ;  and  of  the  prophesying  of  Jesus, 
"  He  lies  for  the  whetstone,  I  give  Him  the  prize " ; 
and,  before  the  buffeting  begins,  "  We  shall  teach  Him 
I  wot  a  new  play  of  Yule."  Says  Tortor  Secundus  of  the 
victim,  "  He  sets  not  a  fly-wing  by  Sir  Csesar  full  even." 
Cayphas,  fretting  that  his  sacerdotal  position  restrains 
him  from  striking  Jesus,  cries,  "  He  that  first  made  me 
clerk  and  taught  me  my  lere,  On  books  for  to  bark,  the 
Devil  give  him  care!" ;  and  when  Annas  persuades  him 
to  desist,  — "  My  heart  is  full  cold,  nearhand  that  I 
swelt;  For  tales  that  are  told  I  bolne  (burst)  at  my 
belt."  When  Jack  the  boy  comes  in  to  his  masters, 
the  quarrelling  shepherds  of  the  Prima,  he  casually 
remarks : 

1  Here  are  men  among  us,  loyal  in  the  law,  who  will  lie  for  no  people, 
I  call  them  to  witness. 


THE  WAKEFIELD   MASTER          189 

Now  God  gyf  you  care,  foles  all  sam  ; 
Sagh  I  never  none  so  fare  hot  the  foles  of  Gotham. 
Wo  is  hir  that  you  bare,  youre  sire  and  youre  dam : 
Had  she  broght  furth  an  hare,  a  shepe,  or  a  lam, 

Had  bene  well. 
Of  all  the  foles  I  can  tell, 
From  heven  unto  hell, 
Ye  thre  bere  the  bell ; 
God  gyf  you  unceyll ! 


The  rural  wisdom  of  his  Yorkshire  craftsmen  is  simi- 
larly redolent  of  daily  use.  When  Noe's  Gyll  complains, 
"  We  women  may  wary  all  ill  husbands,"  and  the 
patriarch  retorts,  "  Ye  men  that  has  wives,  Whiles  they 
are  yong,  If  ye  love  your  lives  Chastise  their  tongue," 
the  audience  beholds  itself  as  in  a  mirror.  Primus 
Tortor  was  not  the  first  to  philosophise :  "  It  is  better 
sit  still,  than  rise  up  and  fall " ;  and  Secundus  is  but 
echoing  the  lore  of  the  homely  wise  when  he  commits 
dicing  to  the  Devil  with  "  As  Fortune  assize,  men  will 
she  make,  —  Her  manners  are  nice,  she  can  down  and 
uptake."  Pilate  portrays  the  political  trimmer  that  all 
knew,  in  his  confession  —  "For  like  as  on  both  sidys 
the  iren  the  hammer  makith  play,  So  do  I  that  the  law 
has  been  in  my  kepyng  "  ;  and  his  counsellor  but  echoes 
public  opinion  when  he  upbraids  this  ruler  with  "  Why 
should  /  not  mell  of  those  matters  that  /  you  taught  ? 
Though  ye  be  prince  peerless  without  any  peer,  Were 
not  my  wise  wisdom,  your  wits  were  in  waght  [peril] ; 
And  that  is  seen  express  and  plainly  right  here."  Of 
the  moralising  of  the  Secunda  Pastorum  I  have  already 
spoken ;  the  Prima  is  equally  observant  of  the  common 
lot.  "  Lord,"  grumbles  Gyb,  as  he  enters,  "  what  they 
are  well  that  hence  are  past,  For  they  nought  feel  them 


1 9o      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

too  downcast.  .  .  .  After  our  play  in  this  world  comes 
sorrow ;  after  riches,  poverty ;  horseman  Jack  Cope 
walks  then,  I  ween.  Rents  are  coming  thick  but  my 
purse  is  weak;  nay,  if  ill-luck  will  grind,  may  God  from 
his  heaven  send  grace."  "  Poor  men,"  groans  John 
Home,  "  are  in  the  dyke,  and  often  Time  mars ;  such  is 
the  world ;  no  helpers  are  here."  "  Yea,"  rejoins 

Gyb,- 

It  is  sayde  full  ryfe 
A  man  may  not  wyfe 
And  also  thryfe 

And  all  in  a  yere. 

No  better  index  to  the  view  of  life  of  our  mediaeval 
workaday  forefathers  still  endures  than  that  afforded  by 
their  Miracle  plays.  No  picture  more  ingenuous  than 
that  dramatised  by  the  Player-clerk  of  Wakefield.  And 
for  technical  skill,  what  Langland  was  to  satire,  Malory 
to  prose  fiction,  and  Chaucer  to  the  metrical  romance, 
that,  if  we  but  allow  for  the  immaturity  of  the  type,  the 
Wakefield  Master  was  to  our  mediaeval  drama. 


TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC     191 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE   TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC 

ESPECIALLY  IN  THE  LUDUS  COVENTRIZE  AND  THE  MIDDLE 
PERIOD   OF  THE  YORK 

WE  shall  now  turn  to  the  Chester  and  the  Ludus 
Coventrize,  or  N-Town,  plays  which  are  not  of  the  Old 
Testament.  Their  comedy  parts  (at  any  rate)  are  prob- 
ably of  later  date  than  the  plays  of  York  and  Wakefield 
which  have  just  been  treated,  but  the  undiluted  comic 
passages  are  few.  In  the  Chester  we  come  across  the 
excellent  fooling  of  the  Shepherds1  Play,  of  which  I  have 
spoken  in  connection  with  the  Wakefield  Secunda  Pasto- 
rumy  —  approximately  of  the  same  period ;  the  delicious 
fling  at  the  knightly  ideals  of  romance,  when  Sir  Launce- 
lot  of  the  Deep,  and  Sir  Grimbald  are  introduced  as 
braggadocio  cavaliers  sallying  forth  to  slaughter  innocents 
—  a  passage,  perhaps  of  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury ;  and  that  well-inserted  reference  to  contemporary 
manners,  as  late  as  1524,  in  the  lament  of  the  "taver- 
nere,"  the  gentle  gossip  and  "  tapstere,"  who  remains  in 
hell  after  its  harrowing. 

Comic  representations  of  real  life  in  the  later  portions 
of  the  N-Town  plays  are  also  few.  But,  such  as  they 
are, —  the  pompous  converse  of  the  Doctors  in  the 
Temple,  the  unaffected  precipitancy  of  the  young  man 
taken  in  adultery  who  escapes  Calligis  non  ligatis  et  Irac- 
cas  in  manu  tenens,  and  Lord  Lucifer's  monologue  on 


i92      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  fashions  of  the  day,  —  they  must  have  leavened  the 
general  didacticism  of  the  cycle  with  some  flavour  of  actu- 
ality. Both  vocabulary  and  verse  would  indicate  that 
these  passages  belong  by  no  means  to  an  earlier  period 
in  the  composition  of  the  cycle ;  the  allusions  to  dress 
in  the  last  of  them  have  been  assigned  to  the  latter  half 
of  the  fifteenth  century.  A  feeble  attempt  at  the  comic 
may  be  detected  also  in  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds, 
but  that  appears  to  me  to  be  suggested  by  a  similar 
passage  in  the  Chester.  Though  in  its  original  form 
this  play  was  one  of  the  earliest  of  its  cycle,  certain  ver- 
bal resemblances  between  its  present  form  and  that  of 
the  corresponding  play  of  York  would  indicate  later 
borrowing  from  that  source  as  well. 

But  beside  the  comic  of  every-day  manners  and 
characters,  there  is  evidence  in  some  of  these  later 
pageants,  especially  those  of  N-Town,  of  that  romantic 
element  without  which  we  can  never  realise  the  comic  of 
the  ideal.  The  Joseph  and  Mary  plays  are  among  our 
earliest  romantic  comedies,  and  as  embodying  a  higher 
conception  of  the  dramatic  than  most  of  the  plays  so  far 
considered,  it  has  seemed  wise  to  gather  them  from  all 
cycles  into  a  single  group. 

The  Chester  play  From  the  Salutation  to  the  Nativity, 
may  be  passed  with  a  word ;  for  in  original  date  of  com- 
position it  is  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  cycles,  and  though 
touched  up  by  later  hands,  is  still  clumsy  —  neither  a  dra- 
matic whole  nor  dramatic  in  the  handling.  It  is  merely 
a  section  of  narrative  measured  off  and  draped  about  lay- 
figures  for  purposes  of  display.  Occasionally  a  natural 
trait  appears,  as  in  the  grumbling  of  Joseph  over  the 
payment  of  tribute,  and  the  naivete  of  his  affection  for 


TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC     193 

Mary;  occasionally  a  gleam  of  the  humorous,  as  in  the 
punishment  of  the  sacrilegious  midwife,  Salome.  An- 
other pageant  of  Chester,  however,  the  Purification,  which 
is  evidently  a  late  insertion  between  the  Flight  into  Egypt 
and  the  Christ  in  the  Temple,  avails  itself  of  the  possibil- 
ities of  wonder  somewhat  more  fitly  and  in  the  fashion 
property  characteristic  of  this  sequence  of  plays. 

The  York  plays  in  this  delightful  series,  probably  of 
the  middle  period,  are  altogether  more  natural,  detailed, 
and  realistic  than  the  Wakefield,  though  the  Joseph  of 
the  latter  has  an  interest  of  his  own  because  he  is  so 
decidedly  "  down  on  his  luck."  In  spirit,  style,  and 
verse,  there  is  indeed  a  radical  difference  between  the 
York  treatment  of  this  romance  and  the  treatment  ac- 
corded to  their  distinctive  themes  by  the  later  York 
realist  and  the  Wakefield  Master.  The  work  of  the 
former,  as  we  have  seen,  is  in  general  characterised  by 
an  ability  in  plot-construction,  a  grasp  of  dramatic  situ- 
ation, and  a  tendency  to  emphasise  idiosyncrasy  and 
manners,  though  with  somewhat  more  of  grimness  than 
of  sympathy.  The  Wakefield  Master  not  only  refines 
upon  the  raw  material,  but  transmutes  it  to  something 
new  in  the  alembic  of  his  humour ;  he  subordinates  man- 
ners to  satire,  or  to  the  comic  of  the  situation,  but  he 
indulges  rarely  or  not  at  all  in  tenderness.  With  the 
exception  of  two  stanzas  the  Wakefield  Virgin  Plays  owe 
nothing  to  him.  The  Annunciation,  the  Flight,  and  the 
Play  of  the  Doctors  show,  more  or  less,  the  influence  of 
York.  The  Salutation,  however,  opens  with  an  original 
and  charming  domestic  scene,  where  the  cousins,  Mary 
and  Elizabeth,  inquire  after  mutual  friends  and  interests. 
The  tone  is  as  modern  and  as  suitable  to  its  dramatic 
function  as  a  modern  poet  could  achieve. 

13 


i94       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  romance  of  the  betrothal  of  Mary  and  Joseph  as 
told  by  the  latter  in  the  Wakefield  Annunciation  is  not  very 
dramatic,  but  it  contains  one  pre-Raphaelite  stanza : 

When  I  all  thus  had  wed  hir  thare, 
We  and  my  madyns  home  can  fare, 

That  kyngys  doghters  were; 
All  wroght  thay  sylk  to  fynd  them  on, 
Marie  wroght  purpyll,  the  oder  none 

Bot  othere  colers  sere, 

which,  although  a  paraphrase  (as  Mr.  Pollard  has  shown) 
of  verses  in  the  apocryphal  gospel  of  Mary,1  and  the 
Protevangel  of  St.  James,2  indicates  both  the  poetic 
taste  and  the  diction  of  the  composer;  for  the  "  Kynges 
doghters,"  the  "  sylk  to  fynd  them  on,"  the  "  wroght," 
and  that  exquisite  touch  of  the  "  othere  colers  sere"  are 
of  his  invention.  That  part  of  the  Purification  written  in 
the  same  stanza,  where  the  bells  of  the  Temple  ring  them- 
selves at  the  approach  of  Mary  and  the  Child,  contains 
even  more  of  simple  wonder  than  the  corresponding  por- 
tions of  the  York.  These  plays  have  been  assigned  by 
Mr.  Pollard  to  the  original  didactic  stage  of  the  cycle; 
but  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  portions  in  the  six-line  met- 
rical romance  form  were  additions,  at  an  early  period  to 
be  sure,  to  the  naive  basis  in  couplets. 

It  is  with  Joseph's  Trouble  about  Maryy  in  the  York 
cycle,  that  we  reach  the  first  genuine  effort  at  a  ro- 
mantic handling  of  the  theme.  This  play,  though  its 
introduction  of  Mary's  attendant  maids  is  probably  of 
later  insertion,  displays  many  of  the  characteristics  of  a 
little  comedy:  the  shifting  moods  of  Joseph,  Mary's  pa- 
tient iteration  of  the  paternity  of  the  Child,  the  skilful 
sequence  of  the  plot.  Significant  above  all  are  the  char- 

1  vi,  7.  a  ix,  1-4,  6,  8,  1 8. 


S 

B 


ffi 

0> 

?3 
3  P 


•g     50 


TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC     195 

acter  of  the  Virgin  and  her  vindication.  In  the  Wake- 
field  play  she  is  somewhat  curt  in  her  replies ;  here  she  is 
the  ewigweibliche,  worthy  of  adoration,  winsome,  mild. 
She  is  the  first  romantic  woman  in  English  drama,  and 
the  series  of  plays  in  which  she  figures  is  the  forerunner 
of  the  modern  comedy  of  love,  —  the  drama  of  the  maiden 
ideal  victorious,  and  of  woman  adored.  The  devotion  of 
the  York  Joseph  to  Mary  and  the  Child  is  brought  to  its 
climax  in  an  idyllic  drama,  The  Journey  to  Bethlehem,  and 
is  developed  with  happy  iteration  in  the  Plight  and  the 
Christ  in  the  Temple. 

The  intense  interest  taken  by  our  ancestors  in  this 
story  of  eternal  youth  and  love  is  evidenced  by  the  fact 
that,  of  the  York  cycle,  one-fifth  centres  about  it ;  of  the 
Chester,  one-fourth  ;  of  the  Wakefield,  almost  a  third ; 
of  the  N-Town,  a  third.  Of  the  thirteen  N-Town  plays 
which  refer  to  it,  all  but  one  introduce  the  figure  of  the 
Virgin,  and  in  eight  she  is  the  central  character.  Now, 
metrical  and  other  tests  show  that,  while  five  of  these 
(XII,  XIII,  XIV,  XVIII,  XIX)  were  originally  among 
the  earliest  in  the  cycle,  they  are,  in  their  present  form, 
probably  revisions  of  a  later  date  than  the  corresponding 
plays  of  other  cycles;  also,  that  the  remaining  three  (IX, 
X,  XI)  were  first  written  about  the  time  of  these  revisions. 
The  charm  of  the  Virgin  has  therefore  prospered,  and  in 
the  N-Town  plays  it  bursts  into  full  flower.  In  spite  of 
their  didactic  bent,  they  enhance  the  interest  of  the 
dramatic  by  the  infusion  of  romantic  legend  :  as  of  the 
cherry  tree  bowing  its  fruit  to  the  Virgin's  hand  ;  and 
by  allegory,  as  of  the  maidens  five  that  circle  Mary. 
This  ideal  woman,  the  gracious  child  of  long  childless 
parents,  the  daughter  vowed 

In  clennes  to  lyven  in  Godys  service, 


196       PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  maiden  wife  and  virgin  mother,  what  figure  more  fit 
to  refine  the  manners  and  the  art  of  an  age  still  rude  ? 
And  then  what  variety  of  plot  revolves  about  her,  —  the 
comic  reluctance  of  the  aged  bridegroom,  his  surprise 
over  the  blossoming  rod  of  his  destiny,  his  apprehension 
of  a  hen-pecked  future, 

Xuld  I  now  in  age  begynne  to  dote  ? 
If  I  her  chyde  she  wold  clowte  my  cote, 
Blere  myn  ey  and  pyke  out  a  mote,  — 

his  hearty  wrong  response  during  the  wedding  ceremony 
—  the  simple  devotion  of  her  damsels,  the  benediction  of 
the  bishop,  the  solicitude  of  the  parents,  the  hiring  of  the 
"lytyl  praty  house,"  and  the  sudden  departure  of  the  new- 
wed  husband  for  a  far  "countre"  — such  touches,  cus- 
tomary and  immediate,  must  have  made  the  Betrothment  a 
most  acceptable  drama  of  the  sentimental-comic  kind.  In 
sequence  with  this  the  Return  of  Joseph  and  the  Trial  con- 
stitute a  trilogy,  the  prominence  of  which  in  the  history 
of  romantic  comedy  must  not  be  underrated.  The  Trial 
of  Joseph  and  Mary  opens  humorously,  with  a  summon- 
ing to  court  of  people  by  their  English  nicknames.  This 
passage  is  evidently  a  somewhat  later  addition  to  a  play 
which  is  otherwise  significant.  On  the  one  hand  the 
pageant  is  an  early  representative  of  romantic  comedy, 
on  the  other  of  the  scandal  or  manners  school  which  was 
later  to  be  developed  with  gusto  and  ungodly  grace  by 
the  dramatists  of  the  Restoration,  and  ultimately  to  be 
refined  by  Sheridan.  For  the  elements  of  scandal  it  is 
necessary  only  to  refer  to  the  career  of  the  apostles  of 
detraction,  —  ensnared  in  the  gins  which  they  had  set 
for  others.  For  the  element  of  the  romantic  no  finer 
example  of  that  early  date  can  be  found  than  the  success- 


TRANSITION   TO   THE   ROMANTIC     197 

ful  refutation  of  the  attack  upon  the  honour  of  the  Virgin. 
From  the  point  of  view  of  plot,  as  well,  the  play  is 
justly  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  important  of 
cyclic  contributions  to  early  comedy.  Indeed,  the  Joseph 
and  Mary  plays,  as  a  whole,  form  an  excellent  transition 
from  the  study  of  realism  to  that  of  the  romance  of  early 
comedy,  and  in  their  appeal  to  the  sentiments  of  sexual 
chivalry,  of  wonder  and  admiration,  the  N-Town  group 
of  plays,  and,  to  some  extent,  the  corresponding  York 
plays,  make  a  decided  advance  upon  other  cycles. 

I  think  that  this  aspect  of  the  Nativity  plays  has  not 
been  hitherto  duly  emphasised.  It  is  to  be  noted  that 
the  hero  or  heroine  of  them  is  always  triumphant,  that 
the  best  opportunity  is  offered  for  light-hearted  fun,  an 
opportunity  which  is  generally  availed  of,  and  that  the 
English  drama  is  enriched  in  them  by  the  virgin  ideal, 
without  which  comedy  would  have  remained  farcical, 
fleshly,  or  heartless.  It  is  largely  by  virtue  of  this  ideal 
that  the  romantic  comedy  of  Greene  and  Shakespeare 
runs  with  a  ruddier  blood  and  beats  with  a  quicker  pulse 
and  healthier  actuality  and  nobler  spirit  than  the  satire  of 
Aristophanes  or  the  smut  of  Wycherley.  Comedy  is  not 
of  the  head  alone  nor  of  the  belly.  She  is  no  Phoenician 
Ashtoreth,  nor  Aphrodite  Pandemos,  nor  French  Lubri- 
city ;  nor  is  she  any  pallid  Artemis,  or  lightning-born 
Athene,  purposive,  unfeeling,  and  serene.  Thalia  Urania 
is  wit  and  winsomeness ;  sanity,  romance,  and  tenderness, — • 
in  one:  the  light  and  love  of  a  life  found  "more  amusing 
than  we  thought." 


198       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  ELEMENTS  OF  PATHOS  AND  SUBLIMITY 

I  SAID  "  romance  and  tenderness ";  for  pathos  in  the 
drama  makes  illusion  real  and  calls  the  careless  listener  to 
account.  And,  though  the  most  serious  of  these  scrip- 
tural dramas  is  comedy  in  the  sense  divine,  because  tri- 
umphant in  the  outcome,  it  still  is  kind  "  with  touches 
of  things  common  "  and  "  droppings  of  warm  tears." 
Even  in  early  pageants  such  as  the  Brome  play  of  Abra- 
ham and  Isaac,  its  derivative  of  Chester,  and  its  analogues 
of  other  cycles,  true  pathos  obtains.  In  the  pageants  of 
the  middle  and  later  periods,  the  tender  phases  of  the 
Christ-story  are  steadily  developed.  But  always  the  Vir- 
gin remains  the  lode-star  of  emotion.  Few  more  tenderly 
natural  scenes  can  be  adduced  than  that  in  the  Coventry 
guild  play  where  the  "  Chyld  waxeth  cold  ";  or  that  in 
the  York  Flight  into  Egypt  where  Mary  weeps  and  Joseph 
to  "  ese  her  arme "  takes  the  "  dere  sone  so  swete." 
Again  and  again  in  the  crucifixion  and  resurrection  plays, 
the  central  figure  is  the  Virgin.  Jesus  only  too  frequently 
presents  a  theological  aspect;  Mary,  never.  In  the  N- 
Town  Crucifixion,  when  Jesus,  in  the  greater  business  he 
was  about,  is  apparently  unmindful  of  her,  the  matchless 
motherhood  asserts  itself  in  pathos  so  dramatic  that  I 
wonder  how  historians  have  so  long  ignored  it : 


PATHOS  AND   SUBLIMITY  199 

O  my  sone,  my  sone,  my  derlyng  dere  ! 
What  have  I  defendyd  [offended]  thee  ? 
Thou  hast  spoke  to  alle  tho  that  ben  herey 
And  not  o  word  thou  spekyst  to  me  ! 

To  the  Jewys  thou  art  ful  kinde, 
Thou  hast  forgeve  al  her  mysdede ; 

And  the  thef  thou  hast  in  minde, 

For  onys  askyng  mercy  heven  is  his  mede. 

A  !  my  sovereyn  Lord,  why  wilt  thou  not  speke 
To  me  that  am  thi  modyr,  in  peyn  for  thi  wrong  ? 

A  !  heart !  heart !  why  whylt  thou  not  breke  ? 
That  I  were  out  of  this  sorwe  so  stronge  ! 

The  reply  of  the  Son  is  disappointingly  clerical ;  but  the 
situation  is  saved  dramatically  by  that  twin-mother  with 
Mary  of  Christian  romance — the  Magdalene.  "Ah, 
good  lady,"  she  cries,  "why  do  ye  thus,  the  pain  that  my 
Lord  Jesus  sees  in  you,  it  but  paineth  him  the  more." 
The  York  crucifixion  plays  are  likewise  sometimes 
mellowed  by  pathos  ;  but  the  poet  is  generally  paying  too 
much  attention  to  his  alliterations  to  bestow  a  human 
sympathy  upon  the  Mother  of  Christ.  To  her 

Alias!  for  my  swete  sonne  I  saie, 

That  doulfully  to  dede  thus  is  dight ; 

Alias!  for  full  lovely  thou  laye 

In  my  wombe,  this  worthely  wight,  .  .  . 

the  Jesus  of  York  replies  with  words  in  which  the  scrip- 
tural severity  becomes  brutal : 

Thou  woman,  do  way  of  thy  wepyng, 
For  me  may  thou  no  thyng  amende ; 

My  fadirs  wille  to  be  wirkynge, 
For  mankynde  my  body  I  bende. 

The  Wakefield  Processio  Cruets,  on  the  other  hand, 
(though  it  has  from  its  fourth  to  its  forty-eighth  stanza 


200       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

followed  the  dramatic  manner  and  occasionally  the  lan- 
guage of  the  York  Crucifixio  and  Mortificacio),  leaves  the 
style  of  York  immeasurably  behind,  just  as  soon  as  the 
Virgin  makes  her  moan  —  her  planctus.  "Alas,  my  lam 
so  mylde,"  she  weeps : 

Why  will  thou  fare  me  fro 

Emang  thise  wulfes  wylde  that  wyrke  on  thee  this  wo  ? 
Fro  shame  who  may  theeshelde?    Forfreyndys  has  thou  fo! 
Alas,  my  comly  childe,  why  will  thou  fare  me  fro  ? 
Madyns,  make  youre  mone 
And  wepe,  ye  wyfes,  everichon, 
With  me,  most  wrich,  in  wone, 

The  childe  that  borne  was  best ! 
My  harte  is  styf  as  stone  that  for  no  bayll  will  brest. 

This  is  poetry,  the  note  inevitable :  "  Why  wilt  thou 
fare  me  fro  ?  "  — 

My  life  how  shall  I  lede 
When  fro  me  gone  is  he  that  is  my  hede 

Inhy? 
My  death  now  comen  it  is:  my  dere  Son  have  mercy  ! — 

The  futile  cry  of  the  heart  that,  aching,  cannot  burst. 
Then  answers  the  Son  with  tenderness  infinite  and  that 
human  tone: 

My  moder  mylde,  thou  chaunge  thi  chere ! 
Cease  of  thi  sorow  and  sighing  sere, 

It  syttys  unto  my  hart  full  sare ; 
The  sorow  is  sharp  I  suffer  here, 
Bot  doyll  thou  drees?  my  moder  derey 

Me  marters  mekill  mare. 

Thus  will  my  fader  I  fare 
To  lowse  mankynde  of  bandys: 

His  son  will  he  not  spare 

To  lowse  that  bon  was  ere2 
Full  fast  in  feyndys  handys. 

1  The  pain  thou  bearest.  *  To  loose  those  that  were  bound. 


PATHOS  AND   SUBLIMITY  201 

There  were,  indeed,  poets  in  England  other  than  Chaucer 
and  Langland,  long  before  Spenser,  Marlowe,  and  Shake- 
speare. Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona  multi. 

That  the  development  of  the  cycles  as  a  popular 
spectacle  demanded  a  departure  from  that  which  was  ex- 
clusively religious,  didactic,  and  conventional  in  their  in- 
ception, must  again  be  emphasised.  The  craft-plays  are 
a  "  sport "  sprung  from  a  serious  stock.  And  on  that 
account  those  qualities  —  of  pathos,  sublimity,  and  tragic 
awe  —  which  characterise  the  miracles  as  liturgical,  are 
not  the  differentia  by  which  the  progress  of  the  offshoot 
as  drama  should  be  measured.  In  the  crude  the  serious 
qualities  are  as  vital  as  in  the  refined.  Art  has  added 
little  to  their  emotional  sincerity.  The  pathetic,  for  in- 
stance, which  in  the  later  plays  of  the  great  cycles  has 
attained  that  impressiveness  of  which  we  have  taken  note, 
was  also  significant  though  naive  in  the  thirteenth-cen- 
tury Harrowing  of  Hell,  the  Brome  Sacrifice  of  Isaac,  and 
the  early  versions  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents.  It  is 
present  in  the  liturgical  laments  of  the  Maries  at  the 
Tomb,  and  it  rises  to  its  climax  in  the  Latin  planctus  of 
the  Virgin  before  the  Cross.  From  this  point  of  view 
these  efforts,  early  as  they  were,  are  not  markedly  inferior 
to  their  dramatic  successors  of  the  N-Town  and  Wakefield 
cycles,  or  to  the  Road  to  Calvary  of  the  Shearmen's  play 
at  York.  But  though  it  is  more  difficult  to  trace  an  his- 
torical advance  in  the  handling  of  the  serious  emotions 
than  in  that  of  the  commoner  sort,  it  is  no  less  instructive 
to  note  their  contribution  to  the  aesthetic  value  of  the 
miracle  plays. 

From  the  consideration  of  the  pathetic  we  pass 
most  readily  to  that  of  its  converse,  the  sublime.  This 
obtains  to  some  extent  in  the  earlier  spectacles  of 


202       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Abraham's  obedience  and  Christ's  nativity,  but  most,  of 
course,  in  the  dramas  of  the  Passion,  whether  early  or 
late.  In  the  majestic  silence  of  the  Saviour  during  the 
trials  before  Caiaphas,  Pilate,  Herod,  it  speaks.  In  the 
superhuman  patience  of  the  Ascent  to  Calvary,  and  of 
the  agony  upon  the  Cross,  it  lives. 
The  words  of  Jesus, 

Ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem 

I  bid  you  weep  no  more  for  me, 

and  those  beginning 

I  pray  you  people  that  pass  me  by  — 

which  recur  in  one  form  or  another  in  various  cycles 
appeal  to  me  as  among  the  finest  specimens  of  mingled 
pathos  and  sublimity  in  mediaeval  literature.  The  Wake- 
field  monologue  of  Christ  after  his  resurrection  (of  the 
affiliation  of  which  with  the  Chester,  N-Town,  and  other 
versions  I  shall  speak  later)  is  the  height  of  moral  grand- 
eur :  "  Earthly  man  that  I  have  wrought,  Remember 
what  was  done  for  thee  "  — 

Clean  have  I  made  thee  sinful  man, 
With  woe  and  wandreth l  I  thee  wan  ;  2 
From  heart  and  side  the  blood  out-ran 

Such  was  my  pyne  — 3 
Thou  must  me  love  that  thus  gave  than* 

My  life  for  thine;  .  .  . 

and  that  other  stanza,  too,  whose  tone  is  the  vox  humana 
of  some  great  organ, 

For  I  am  very  prince  of  peace, 
And  sinnes  sere  6  I  may  release, 

1  misfortune.  a  won.  '  pain. 

4  then.  6  many. 


PATHOS   AND    SUBLIMITY  203 

And  whoso  will  of  sinnes  cease 

And  mercy  cry,  — 
I  grant  them  here  a  measse * 

In  bread,  mine  own  body. 

For  the  solemnity  which  is  born  of  the  thought  of 
death,  I  venture  to  say  that  few  modern  elegies  can  stand 
comparison  with  one  embedded  in  the  Wakefield  Lazarus, 
and  there  forgotten : 

Ilk  one  in  such  array,  with  death  he  shall  be  dight, 
And  closed  cold  in  clay,  whether  he  be  king  or  knight. 

What   more    dignified,  and  stern  yet  tender,  than  the 
concluding  strain  : 

Amend  thee,  man,  whiles  yet  thou  may, 
Let  never  no  mirth  fordo  thy  mind ; 

Thinke  thou  on  the  dreadful  day 

When  God  shall  deme  [judge  of]  all  mankind. 
Think  thou  farest  as  doth  the  wind ; 

This  world  is  waste  and  will  away  : 
Man,  have  this  in  thy  mind, 

And  amend  thee  whiles  thou  may. 

Amend  thee,  man,  whiles  thou  art  here, 

Against  thou  go  another  gait ; 
When  thou  art  dead  and  laid  on  bier, 

Wit  thou  well  thou  be'st  too  late ;  — 

For  if  all  the  good  thou  ever  gat 
Were  dealt  for  thee  after  thy  day, 

In  heaven  it  would  not  mend  thy  state, — 
Therefore  amend  thee  whiles  thou  may ! 

If  thou  be  right  royal  in  rent, 

As  is  the  steed  standing  in  stall, 
Know  in  thy  heart  and  take  intent 

That  they  are  Goddes  goodes  all. 

1  meal. 


204       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

He  might  have  made  thee  poor  and  small 
As  one  that  begs  from  day  to  day  ; 

Wit  thou  well,  account  thou  shall, — 
Therefore  amend  thee  whiles  thou  may  ! l 

As  to  the  tragic,  it  is  present,  to  be  sure,  in  the  Cor- 
nish Pharaoh,  David  and  Bethsabe,  and  Maximilla ;  in 
the  Chester  Antichrist,  the  Wakefield  Judicium,  the 
N-Town  and  the  York  Massacre  of  the  Innocents ;  and 
in  the  plays  of  the  Passion.  But  while  the  liturgical 
interest  of  the  Passion  plays  was  serious,  or  even  tragic, 
the  tragedy,  as  I  have  insisted,  was  always  relieved  by  the 
foreknowledge  of  the  Resurrection.  And  in  other  cases, 
when  the  subjects  were  such  as  might  lend  themselves 
naturally  to  tragic  treatment,  —  the  fury  and  death  of 
Herod,  for  instance,  the  remorse  and  hanging  of  Judas,  the 
downfall  of  Antichrist,  and  the  retribution  of  Cain,  there 
is  rather  a  presentation  of  horror  than  of  tragedy,  for 
the  suffering  of  the  heroes  is  so  contrived  as  to  awaken 
in  the  beholder  neither  the  sympathy  nor  the  admiration 
essential  to  the  proper  enjoyment  of  tragic  art. 

1 1  have  but  slightly  modernised  the  text. 


THE   LATER   MIRACLES  205 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   CHARACTERISTICS   OF  THE   LATER 
MIRACLES 

ALSO  closely  connected  with  the  interest  in  the  romantic, 
and  tending  to  the  same  idealisation  of  fact,  is  interest 
in  the  allegorical.  One  cannot  but  notice  the  growing 
frequency  with  which  abstractions  are  introduced  as 
characters  in  the  later  N-Town  plays  :  Contemplacio,  Mors, 
VeritaSy  Misericordia,  Justicia,  Pax.1  The  influence  of 
epical  allegory  is  beginning  to  tell ;  but  we  must  not, 
therefore,  conclude  that  the  miracles  of  N-Town  were  the 
first  or  only  adaptation  of  the  allegorical  dramatic  form. 
Chaucer  had  already  reduced  allegory  to  dialogue ;  and 
moralities  like  the  Castle  of  Perseverance,  written  as 
early  as  1400,  and  abounding  in  abstract  characters 
derived  both  from  epical  allegory  and  experience,  were 
already  pursuing  their  distinct  and  independent  course 
toward  a  comedy  of  humours  and  manners  even  before 
the  miracle  play  had  begun  to  avail  itself  of  the  stock- 
in-trade  abstractions  of  religious  ceremony  and  thought.2 

1  For  a  list  of  these  instances,  see  Hohlfeld,  die  Kollektivmisterien, 
Anglia,  XI,  279.  I  doubt  whether  the  twelve  abstractions  listed  at  the 
beginning  of  Lud.  Cov.,  XL,  are  dramatic  characters.  For  these  four 
lines  make  a  stanza  which  was  probably  assigned  for  delivery,  word  by 
word,  to  the  several  apostles;  just  as  the  next  stanza  was  distributed  in 
the  same  order,  but  by  lines. 

a  See  Ebert,  Jabrb.  f.  rom.  u.  engl.  Lit.,  I,  166-7  >  Die  engl. 
Mysterien ,-  and  chapter  xxi,  below. 


ao6       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  Ludus  Coventria  "  Daughters  of  God,"  are  merely 
signs  of  the  literary  times,  adaptation  of  scriptural  im- 
agery ;  not  a  new  dramatic  invention  nor  of  uncommon 
historical  significance. 

A  period  sufficiently  mature  to  enjoy  symbol  and 
satire  could  not  but  develop  still  another  dramatic  possi- 
bility, the  mock  ideal.  This  is  furnished  by  situations 
in  which  Pride  rides  for  a  fall  or  Cunning  is  caught  in 
his  own  snare.  The  yeomen  and  craftsmen  of  Plan- 
tagenet  England  could  not  always  with  safety  vent  their 
wrath  upon  the  oppressor  and  the  extortionate,  but  upon 
the  Pharaohs,  Balaaks,  and  Herods  of  the  Corpus  Christi 
they  could.  The  louder  the  bluster  of  the  local  bully, 
the  deeper  was  he  drowned,  or  downed,  and  damned  by 
the  local  playwright.  When  Judas  hanged  himself,  many 
a  red-headed  usurer  of  the  neighbourhood  was  remembered 
with  imprecations  not  loud  but  deep,  and  consigned  by 
the  audience  to  perdition  with  him ;  and  long  tediums  of 
restrictive  conscience  were  doubtless  relieved  by  a  flout  at 
the  devil  of  the  play.  This,  indeed,  was  the  drama  of  vica- 
rious reprisals,  which,  administering  the  physic  of  contempt 
for  tyrants,  worked  a  salutary  elimination,  or  catharsis,  of 
timidity  in  the  vulgar,  a  sursum  corda  of  self-gratulation, 
burgher  independence,  and  good  cheer.  To  get  the  better 
of  the  devil  was  ever  a  grim  delight,  even  of  and  in  one's 
self;  but  in  those  days  there  was  also  the  satisfaction  of 
assisting  at  the  discomfiture  of  Judases,  Pharaohs,  and 
Antichrists  of  one's  own  acquaintance,  into  whom  Sathanas 
long  ago  had  crept.  For  no  doubt,  as  on  the  Continent, 
odious  dramatis  person*  were  presented  in  the  likeness 
of  even  more  odious  contemporaries. 

In  the  latest  additions  to  the  great  cycles,  and  in  other 
miracles  of  a  late  date  of  composition,  the  dramatic 


THE   LATER   MIRACLES  207 

element  most  zealously  developed  is  that  of  surprise. 
The  minor  biblical  miracles,  such  as  the  healing  of  Mal- 
chus,  are  availed  of,  the  marvels  of  the  Resurrection  are 
supplemented,  apocryphal  and  legendary  wonderments 
are  introduced :  the  obeisance  of  the  banners  to  the 
Lord  Jesus,  the  appearance  of  Our  Lady  to  St.  Thomas, 
the  mystic  concomitants  of  her  death,  assumption,  and 
coronation,  the  mediaeval  juggleries  of  the  Antichrist, 
and  many  other  necromantic  delights.  It  is,  however, 
in  the  Newcastle  Shipwrights'  Play  and  the  Digby  series, 
both  of  the  fifteenth  century,  that  the  climax  of  sensa- 
tion is  attained.  The  former  presents  us  with  dramatic 
woman  and  dramatic  devil  in  alliance,  gaining, pari  passu, 
in  complexity  of  motive  and  unexpectedness  of  action. 
The  Noe's  wife,  here,  surpasses  her  prototypes :  she  is 
positively  melodramatic.  Under  the  devil's  influence 
she  wanders  from  her  traditional  role  so  far  as  to  give  a 
sleeping  potion  to  her  unsuspicious  husband.  And  the 
devil  is  no  longer  the  mythical  worm,  or  the  shadow  of 
a  dream,  with  which  Eve  and  Percula  were  acquainted : 
he  is  possessed  of  human  characteristics,  is  a  more  fas- 
cinating creature,  more  natural,  and  of  course  more 
amenable  to  feminine  importunity. 

The  Digby  play  of  the  Kyllynge  of  the  Children  of 
Israel,  though  composed,  like  others  included  in  the 
same  collection,  as  late  as  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, improves  in  only  one  particular  upon  the  dramatic 
quality  of  the  miracles  which  had  earlier  dealt  with  that 
subject.  It  develops  into  action  the  possibilities  of  bur- 
lesque already  suggested  by  the  Chester  play.  There 
the  Hebrew  mothers  threaten  to  beat  Herod's  soldiers 
with  their  distaffs ;  here  one  boastful  soldier,  Watkyn, 
gets  a  sound  drubbing.  The  Conversion  of  Saint  Paul, 


208       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

on  the  other  hand,  and  the  Mary  Magdalene,  betray  in 
many  ways  their  comparative  modernity.  They  not 
only  fuse  the  leading  characteristics  of  saints'  play  and 
scriptural  miracle,  but  absorb  from  the  contemporary 
"  moral "  as  well,  certain  of  its  distinctive  ingredi- 
ents. To  the  biblical  narrative  and  the  devils  of  a 
miracle  play  the  St.  Paul  adds  the  conflict  between  good 
and  evil  for  the  possession  of  a  human  soul  which  is  the 
raison  d'etre  of  the  "  moral."  The  conflict  is  not,  indeed, 
conducted,  as  in  the  moral  play,  between  concrete  abstrac- 
tions, virtues  and  vices,  but  directly  between  God  and 
the  Devil..  Still,  the  Seven  Deadly  Sins,  from  whom 
the  dramatic  Vice  of  the  "  moral  "  was  derived,  are  effec- 
tively deployed  by  word  of  mouth,  both  of  the  devil 
Belial  and  of  Saul ;  and  the  equally  abstract  Power  of 
Grace  takes  visible  form  in  the  figure  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  so  descends  upon  the  new-made  saint.  Somewhat 
similarly  the  Mary  Magdalene  combines  the  material  of 
mediaeval  saint-story  with  incidents  and  characters  drawn 
from  scriptural  tradition  and  with  still  others  borrowed 
from  the  custom  of  the  moral  play.  Side  by  side  with 
Mary's  father  Cyrus,  and  with  the  King  and  Queen  of 
Marcylle,  the  Marcylle  Shipman,  and  Mary  in  the 
Wilderness,  —  all  out  of  popular  legend, —  proceed  Laza- 
rus and  Jesus,  Simon  the  Leper,  Herod,  Pilate  and  the 
devils  as  from  the  Bible  and  the  biblical  miracle  play ; 
while  in  and  out  of  the  one  and  fifty  scenes  which  consti- 
tute the  two  parts  of  the  drama  step  abstractions,  the 
Angel  of  Good  and  the  Angel  of  Evil,  the  mortal  sins  — 
Pryde  and  Covetyse,  retainers  of  the  King  of  the  World  ; 
Slowth,  Gloteny  and  Lechery,  retainers  of  the  King  of 
the  Flesh  ;  Wrath  and  Envy,  retainers  of  the  Prince  of 
Devils,  Satan  himself. 


THE   LATER   MIRACLES  209 

No  less  novel  are  these  plays  in  devices  productive  of 
sensational  effect,  —  in  the  former,  for  instance,  the 
comic  realism  of  the  encounter  between  Saul's  servant 
and  the  ostler ;  the  richly  caparisoned  knights  riding  to 
bind  the  Christians  and  bear  them  to  Jerusalem ;  the 
appearance  of  the  Lord  with  great  tempest,  and  Saul 
struck  blind  by  lightning ;  Belial  in  the  fiery  parts  infer- 
nal, Mercury  his  messenger,  and  other  devils  who  shall 
"  rore  and  crye";  music  and  dancing.  Even  more  spec- 
tacular the  career  of  the  Magdalene :  not  only  in  the 
pomp,  already  familiar,  of  scriptural  potentates,  and  the  un- 
dying wonders  of  Lazarus  revived  and  of  Hell  harrowed, 
but  in  the  more  alluring  presentation  of  less  hackneyed 
scenes, —  Lechery  and  Mary,  Mary  and  her  gallant, 
Mary  in  her  arbour,  the  pagan  sacrifice  and  ritual  in  the 
Temple  of  Marcylle,  Mary's  mission  to  the  heathen 
king  and  queen,  the  angels  feeding  Mary  and  taking  her 
to  the  king's  chamber,  the  miraculous  childbirth  and  the 
death  of  the  queen,  the  journey  by  sea  of  the  corpse  and 
the  babe,  the  conversion  of  the  king  and  his  baptism  by 
St.  Peter,  the  restoration  of  the  queen  to  life,  Mary  and 
the  hermit  and  the  shriving  in  the  desert,  and  finally  the 
assumption  of  the  Magdalene.  As  in  the  St.  Paul,  here 
also  are  interwoven  with  the  heroic-romantic,  episodes  of 
comic  realism,  —  the  mock-mass  of  Mahound,  the  amusing 
controversy  of  the  pagan  presbyter  and  his  irreverent 
acolyte,  the  storm  by  sea,  the  bustle  of  the  mariners, 
the  captain  shouting  for  his  dinner,  and  the  sea-cook  so 
sick  with  a  cramp  that  he  can't  get  it  ready. 

The  spectators  may,  of  course,  have  been  familiar 
with  the  legend  of  the  Magdalene  as  presented  by  Vora- 
gine  and  Caxton,  or  even  with  some  of  its  sources  in  the 
apocryphal  New  Testament ;  but  whatever  abatement 


210       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

of  surprise  may  have  resulted  on  that  account  would 
be  more  than  compensated  by  interest  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  personality  of  the  heroine  herself.  This  is 
the  distinctive  contribution  of  the  play  to  the  equipment 
of  English  drama:  the  portrayal  of  the  struggle  by 
which  an  erring  soul  gradually  achieves  salvation,  —  the 
growth  of  character  from  within ;  the  romance  of  the 
fallen  woman  who  raises  not  only  herself  but  others ; 
the  flowering  of  the  sinner  into  the  saint. 

To  the  parts  played  by  the  Devil  and  the  Deadly 
Sins  in  the  miracle  of  St.  Paul  we  have  referred  above ; 
the  Magdalene  is  rich  in  material  for  the  study  of  these 
characters  in  a  critical  period  of  their  dramatic  career. 
The  Devil  here,  if  less  ridiculous,  is  no  less  sensational 
than  in  the  former  play ;  the  Deadly  Sins,  which  in  the 
former  were  terrors  of  rhetorical  imagery,  here  are  pres- 
ent in  the  flesh,  playing  a  concrete  dramatic  role.  Still 
further,  from  the  rank  and  file  of  them  two  emerge  —  the 
Lady  Lechery  and  the  gallant  Curiosity  —  as  social  per- 
sonalities, no  longer  mere  shadows  of  their  master-devils, 
but  walking  embodiments  of  man's  own  depravity,  Vices 
full-grown,  both  human  and  dramatic.  The  Devil  of  the 
earlier  miracle  plays  was  a  theological  character,  a  fallen 
archangel,  an  incarnate  spirit  inimical  to  all  mankind 
because  of  a  grudge  against  the  Maker  of  all.  Origi- 
nally a  serious  character,  he  degenerated  into  a  "  bogey  " 
or  a  buffoon  only  at  the  instance  of  the  improvising 
actor ;  and  as  the  latter  he  enters  such  literature  as  is  ex- 
tant only  with  the  author  of  these  Digby  plays.  So,  too, 
with  the  Digby  plays  we  find  the  Vice  of  the  dramatic 
moral  and  of  contemporary  Fool-literature  intruding 
upon  the  borders  of  the  miracle.  He  is  not  a  theolog- 
ical character,  has  no  long  Hebrew  or  Babylonian  gene- 


THE   LATER   MIRACLES  211 

alogy.  He  is  allegorical,  —  typifying  the  moral  frailty  of 
man  or  woman.  Not  of  mankind  in  the  lump,  though 
he  is  willing  to  oblige ;  but  of  one  individual  at  a  time, 
whose  colours  he  consistently  parades.  Proceeding  from 
the  concept  of  the  Deadly  Sins,  at  first  emphasising  the 
characteristics  of  one,  ultimately  focussing  all  into  one, 
he  dramatises  the  evil  that  springs  from  within.  Though 
at  first  directed,  as  in  the  Digby  Magdalene  and  early 
moral  plays,  by  the  theological  Devil,  God's  enemy, 
who  assails  mankind  with  temptations  from  without,  the 
Vice  is  the  younger  contemporary  of  the  Devil  rather 
than  his  offspring  or  agent.  As  he  acquires  personality, 
he  assumes  characteristics  and  functions  unknown  to  the 
Devil,  scriptural  or  dramatic.  These  functions  were  grad- 
ually assimilated  with  those  of  mischief-maker,  jester,  and 
counterfeit  crank.1  The  story  of  this  assimilation  con- 
cerns, however,  not  the  history  of  the  religious  play, 
but  that  of  the  interlude  —  moral,  educational,  witty,  or 
satirical  —  which  prepared  the  way  for,  and  was  also 
contemporary  with,  the  secular  drama  of  the  early 
Elizabethans. 

In  the  last  six  chapters  I  have  tried  to  show  how  the 
English  cycles  developed  in  dramatic  quality.  This  de- 
velopment is  but  an  index  to  the  parallel  growth  of 
English  culture.  I  therefore  repeat  what,  in  these  chap- 
ters, I  have  frequently  emphasised :  that  in  the  earlier  plays 
of  our  forefathers  the  mirth,  the  proverbial  philosophy, 
the  social  aims,  the  aesthetic  and  religious  ideals  of  the 
middle  ages  still  live  for  us.  I  would  urge  upon  lite- 
rary investigators,  as  of  incalculable  advantage  to  histor- 
ical and  social,  as  well  as  exclusively  philological,  science, 
a  more  minute  and  sympathetic  study  of  these  monuments 

1  See  Rep.  Engl.  Com.,  xlvi-liv,  for  a  fuller  treatment  of  the  subject. 


212      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

than  has  been  hitherto  undertaken.  The  miracle  plays 
are  humanities  that,  originating  long  before  the  Conquest, 
dominated  the  imagination  of  native  England  for  more 
than  five  hundred  years,  and  helped  to  form  the  national 
taste  for  a  fiction,  allegory,  epic,  and  satire,  more  artistic, 
to  be  sure,  but  still  traditional  and  of  scriptural  tang, 
and  for  a  drama  higher  and  broader,  both  classical  and 
romantic,  but  ever  racy,  and  of  the  inherited  stock  and 
soil.  They  were  humanities  in  the  yellow  leaf,  but  still 
lingering  on  the  tree,  when  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson 
put  forth  blossom,  and  when  Peele  and  Lyly,  Marlowe 
and  Greene,  had  already  passed  from  flower  to  fruitage. 


THE   MYSTERIES   IN    FRANCE        213 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   MYSTERIES   IN   FRANCE 

IN  France,  as  Petit  de  Julleville  has  shown,  the  reli- 
gious -plays  were  until  the  fifteenth  century  known  as  ludi, 
repr<esentalioneSj  historic  repr<esentand<£.  "  Mystere  "  is 
used  for  the  first  time  in  1402  in  a  letter  of  Charles  VI 
licensing  the  Confreres  de  la  Passion  of  Paris  to  present 
the  "  misterre  de  la  Passion,  et  d'autres  misterres."  Up 
to  1450  the  term  applies  commonly  to  tableaux  vivants 
and  pageants  for  royal  entries.  Only  after  that  date  are 
dramatic  texts  called  "  mysteries,"  and  even  then  the 
term  is  extended  to  include  plays  of  no  religious  content 
whatever,  as,  for  instance,  the  Mystere  du  Siege  d*  Orleans. 
"Mysterium"  (or  "mystery")  and  "ministerium"  ("me- 
tier "  or  "  office")  were  confounded  in  the  usage  of  the 
middle  ages ;  and  it  is  uncertain  whether  the  dramatic 
nomenclature  derives  originally  from  the  act  or  minis- 
terium of  public  worship  and  industrial  function,  or  from 
the  sacred  nature  of  the  "  mystery  "  symbolised  in  the 
elevation  of  the  Host  at  the  critical  moment  of  the  Mass. 
Of  the  earlier  religious  plays,  such  as  the  twelfth- 
century  Adam,  and  the  thirteenth-century  St.  Nicholas, 
I  have  already  spoken.  The  collective  mysteries  fall 
into  three  cycles :  that  of  the  Old  Testament,  that  of  the 
New  Testament,  and  that  of  the  Apostles  and  the  later 
saints. 


2i4      PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

The  first  of  these,  le  Mysore  du  Viel  Testament^  con- 
sists of  44,325  verses.  It  was  compiled  from  pieces 
written  by  many  authors,  which  had  been  accumulating 
up  to  and  during  the  fifteenth  century,  and  was  printed 
by  Pierre  le  Dru  about  the  year  150x3.  It  was  played 
entire  by  the  Confreres  de  la  Passion  at  the  Hotel  de 
Flandres  in  1542;  and  it  took  twenty  consecutive  per- 
formances to  exhaust  the  material.  The  price  of  ad- 
mission was  two  sous;  that  of  a  box  for  the  season,  thirty 
'ecus.  It  covers  several  mysteries  which  dramatised  the 
sacred  history  of  the  world  to  the  reign  of  Solomon,  and 
also  separate  plays  of  Job,  Tobias,  Susanna  and  Daniel, 
Judith  and  Esther. 

The  Nouveau  Testament  is  preserved  in  seven  distinct 
versions,  called  Passions,  the  best  known  of  which,  com- 
prising 34,574  verses,  was  written  by  Arnoul  Greban,  about 
1450.  In  each  of  these  versions  the  whole  life  of  Christ  is 
presented  ;  but  several  other  plays  present  portions  of  the 
life,  —  the  Nativity,  the  Passion,  properly  so  called,  and 
the  Resurrection.  Of  these  special  mysteries  the  most 
celebrated  is  the  Passion  of  Jean  Michel,  which  elaborated 
that  particular  portion  of  the  cycle  of  Greban.  1 1  was  writ- 
ten about  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  surpasses 
in  occasional  moments  of  sublimity  all  others  of  its  kind. 

The  third  series  of  plays  comprises  the  Actes  des 
Apotres  by  Arnoul  Greban  and  his  brother  Simon,  and 
some  forty  mysteries  of  separate  saints  composed  by  other 
authors.  The  Apdtres  in  length  staggers  the  imagination. 
It  has  61,968  lines.  When  it  was  played  at  Bourges  in 
1536,  it  ran  through  forty  consecutive  days;  and  when  at 
Paris  in  1545,  it  occupied  the  Sundays  for  seven  months. 
In  both  cities  it  was  witnessed  by  crowds  of  all  ranks  and 
classes. 


THE    MYSTERIES   IN   FRANCE       215 

Petit  de  Julleville,1  from  whom  these  facts  are  drawn, 
gives  us  also  a  description  of  the  manner  of  performance 
at  Valenciennes.  Here,  in  1547,  the  Passion  was  played, 
and  from  a  painting  at  the  beginning  of  the  manuscript 
of  the  mystery  one  discovers  the  arrangement  of  the 
stage.  It  was  of  enormous  size  and  provided  with  tieux, 
or  stationary  scenery ;  a  pavilion  with  columns  above, 
which  was  Paradise,  where  God  was  enthroned  and 
surrounded  by  the  four  Virtues,  —  Justice,  Peace,  Wis- 
dom, Mercy  ;  a  wall  with  a  gate,  figuring  Nazareth ;  a 
second  pavilion  enclosing  an  altar  and  the  ark  of  the 
covenant,  —  the  Temple  ;  another  wall  with  gate,  tower, 
and  house,  —  Jerusalem  ;  and  so  on:  the  Palace,  House 
of  Bishops,  Golden  Gate,  the  Lake  of  Tiberias,  Hell 
and  Limbo.  These,  however,  were  but  a  few  of  the 
many  structures  required  for  the  mystery.  The  per- 
formers were  not,  as  in  England,  exclusively  of  the  various 
trades  or  crafts  of  these  provincial  towns,  but  of  all 
degrees,  —  nobles,  the  lower  clergy,  magistrates,  lawyers, 
as  well  as  minor  townsfolk.  Even  girls  and  little  chil- 
dren occasionally  took  part.  At  Metz  the  character  of 
St.  Catherine  was  so  well  acted  by  a  glazier's  daughter, 
who  not  only  had  the  2300  lines  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue, 
but  made  people  weep  with  the  pathos  of  her  utterance, 
that  she  was  out  of  hand  married  by  a  rich  nobleman, 
Henri  de  Latour,  "  who  fell  in  love  with  her  because  of 
the  great  delight  he  took  in  her  performance."  The 
chronicles  abound  with  testimony  to  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  audiences  and  the  devotion  of  the  actors.  The 
realism  with  which  the  latter  played  is  illustrated  by  the 
fact  that  in  the  Passion  play  of  Metz,  in  1437,  both  the 

1  Hist,  de   la  langue   ft  de  la  lift.  Franf.,  II,  405  ;    Le   Theatre   en 
France,  pp.  1-35. 


216      PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

vicar  who  was  crucified  as  Christ,  and  the  chaplain  who 
hanged  himself  for  Judas,  came  so  near  dying  that  they 
had  to  be  taken  down  and  rubbed  with  restoratives. 

In  Paris,  from  1402,  the  sacred  plays  were  under  the 
complete  control  of  the  association  of  bourgeois  and 
craftsmen  mentioned  above  as  the  Confr'erie  de  la  Pas- 
sion. To  them  may  be  accredited  the  establishment  of 
the  first  permanent  theatre  ;  for  they  played  within  doors 
and  in  a  fixed  place,  first  1'Hopital  de  la  Trinite,  then 
1'Hotel  de  Flandres,  and  finally  1'Hotel  de  Bourgogne, 
from  their  inception  until  the  close  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  During  that  century  numerous  other  "  mys- 
teries "  were  composed,  many  of  them  on  purely  secular 
themes,  like  Gringoire's  Mystire  de  Saint  Louis.  Of 
the  various  kinds  some  twenty  specimens  still  exist. 

The  French  mysteries  aim  more  deliberately  at  enter- 
tainment than  their  analogues  of  England.  Nothing, 
perhaps,  illustrates  this  difference  more  conclusively  than 
a  review  of  the  subjects  included  in  the  French  cycle  of 
the  Old  Testament,  but  not  in  any  of  the  English. 
Some  cater  to  the  vulgar  with  situations  that  are  prurient, 
salacious,  and  openly  obscene  ;  of  such  are  the  wooing 
of  the  daughters  of  men,  the  Cainites,  by  the  Sethite 
sons  of  God,  the  exposure  of  Noah  in  his  drunkenness, 
Pharaoh's  attempt  upon  Sarah  and  his  consequent  malady, 
the  lusting  of  the  Sodomites,  Leah's  deception  of  Jacob, 
the  rape  of  Dinah,  the  intrigue  of  Reuben  and  Billah, — 
with  little  Joseph  in  the  role  of  spy  and  informer, — 
Joseph  and  Potiphar's  wife,  the  amours  of  David  and 
Bethsabe  beside  the  details  of  which  the  Cornish  play 
shrinks  into  virtuous  crudity,  Ammon's  incestuous  pas- 
sion, and  the  conspiracy  of  the  elders  against  Susanna. 


THE    MYSTERIES   IN    FRANCE       217 

Other  plays  of  the  Viel  Testament  emphasise  the 
marvels  of  legend  and  scripture.  The  mission  of  Seth 
was  included,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  cycle  of  Cornwall, 
but  in  no  other  British  collection.  In  the  French  it 
is  more  gorgeously  dramatised,  and  with  parallel  scenes 
of  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly  paradise,  —  the  process 
divine  as  well  as  human.  Wonders  —  such  as  the  trans- 
lation of  Enoch,  Esau's  vision  of  the  three  "  arbres  de  la 
croix  et  les  oyseaulx  qui  les  adorent,"  the  metamorphosis 
of  Lot's  wife,  the  conjurations  of  the  Witch  of  Endor,  and 
the  apparition  of  Samuel,  —  are  to  be  found  in  none  of 
the  cycles  of  Britain.  Nor  the  sensational  sequel  of  the 
murder  of  Abel  in  the  wanderings  and  bestial  death  of 
Cain ;  nor  the  romance  of  Samson  and  Delilah,  nor 
the  adventures  of  David's  youth  —  the  contest  with 
Goliath,  the  friendship  with  Jonathan,  the  harping  before 
Saul,  the  winning  of  Michal,  and  the  flight  from  Saul's 
jealous  hatred. 

The  English  cycles  touch,  with  a  pathos  as  tender 
as  that  of  their  French  contemporary,  upon  the  sacrifice 
of  Isaac  and  the  griefs  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  but  none 
of  them  seizes  such  possibilities  as  are  presented  by  the 
death  of  Saul  and  the  untimely  end  of  Absalom.  In 
the  French  cycle,  few  scenes  are  more  delicately  con- 
trived than  David's  lament  over  Saul  and  Jonathan,  and 
his  futile  agony  for  the  rebellious,  beautiful  son,  whom 
Joab  has  smitten  and  slain : 

Mon  filz  Absalon, 

Absalon,  mon  filz ! 
Las!  perdu  t'avon, 
Mon  filzAbsalon  ! 
Et  fault  que  soyon 

En  grief  dueil  confis, 


218       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Mon  filz  Absalon, 
Absalon,  mon  filz. 

In  the  play  DC  Abraham  et  de  ses  cnfants,  the  pathos 
of  which  I  have  spoken  is  enhanced  by  a  realism  of 
detail,  a  pastoral  atmosphere  and  environment  unap- 
proached  by  the  dramatists  of  England.  I  do  not  say 
that  the  thrilling  simplicity  of  the  Brome  play  is  sur- 
passed by  the  art  of  the  French,  but  merely  that  the 
natural  possibilities  are  elaborated  by  the  French  play- 
wright with  a  skill,  which  even  if  somewhat  sophisticated, 
imparts  a  charm  both  exquisite  and  peculiar. 

The  play  opens  with  a  pretty  domestic  scene  in  which 
Abraham  and  Sarah  express  their  gratitude  to  God  for 
the  child  of  their  old  age  and  lesson  the  little  Isaac  in  his 
duty  to  the  Divine.  We  next  are  admitted  to  the  celes- 
tial council,  where,  after  long  deliberation  of  God,  Justice, 
and  Mercy,  the  trial  of  Abraham's  righteousness  is  de- 
creed. Restored  then  to  the  humble  affairs  of  earth,  we 
hear  the  patriarch  summoning  Ishmael  and  Eliezer  to 
lead  the  sheep  to  pasture,  and  Ishmael  whistling  the 
dogs  to  their  work, — "Come,  Clabault,  Tourin,  Patault, 
Veloux,  Satin,  out  with  us,  out  for  the  day."  Off  they 
run  ;  and  little  Isaac,  left  behind,  turns  to  his  mother : 

Mother  Sarah,  give  me  please 

Leave  to  follow  after  these. 
Sarah.         Yes,  my  child,  if  your  father  will ; 

His  word  is  ever  my  word  still. 
Isaac.          Father,  let  me  hasten  away 

Whither  the  shepherds  have  gone  to-day, 

Out  with  the  sheep,  —  the  spot  I  know. 
Abraham.    Then,  my  boy,  God  bless  you,  go. 

I  '11  mount  my  donkey  and  follow  anon 

There  where  you  and  the  rest  are  gone. 


THE    MYSTERIES   IN   FRANCE        219 

Isaac.          So,  here  goes  Isaac ;  away,  away  ! 

[Isaac  va  aux  champs. 

Eliezer.       Ishmael ! 

Ishmael.  What  is  it ;  what  do  you  say  ? 

Eliezer.       Lo,  Isaac  afar ;   he  comes  I  see 

To  be  with  us. 
Ishmael.  Then  let  us  three 

Contrive  some  sport. 
Eliezer.  Well  said.     Devise 

Which  is  the  best.     With  you  it  lies. 

\_Isaac  arrives. 

Isaac.          God  bless  you,  shepherds  ! 
Ishmael.  The  same  to  you, 

Isaac ! 
Isaac.  Hsty  fellows,  now  tell  me  true, 

What  kind  of  a  game  do  you  think  we  '11  play 

To  while  the  time  ? 

Ishmael.  Chuck-farthing,  I  say. 

Isaac.  Oh,  no,  no  !  At  fuller ettes. 

Eliezer.        Not  by  a  long  shot.     Tell  you,  let's 

Have  a  good  turn  at  picque  en  Romme  ; 

That 's  the  best  fun. 
Ishmael.  Here 's  for  it ;  come ! 

We  leave  them  playing  and  return  to  Abraham,  who, 
unwontedly  taken  with  sleep,  tells  Sarah  that  he  '11  have 
a  nap  in  the  garden.  Let  her,  meanwhile,  see  that  the 
donkey  has  his  oats.  Abraham,  pillowing  comfortably 
his  head  upon  a  stone,  composes  himself  for  slumber ;  — 
while  we  are  transported  once  more  to  the  Council  in 
Paradise.  God,  Justice,  and  Mercy  determine  to  an- 
nounce by  Seraphim  the  news  of  their  sad  decision  to 
Abraham.  With  this  angelic  company  we  return.  The 
patriarch  receives  the  order  with  horror  and  submission. 
"  Ah,  Sarah,"  thinks  he,  "  when  you  gave  our  sweet 
Isaac  leave  to  play  in  the  fields,  how  little  you  thought 


220      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

what  was  about  to  befall."  But  he  keeps  to  himself  the 
doom ;  and  mounting  his  donkey  departs  as  with  intent 
to  offer  the  customary  sacrifice.  We  return  to  Paradise 
to  assist  at  still  further  argumentation  concerning  type 
and  antitype,  Isaac  and  the  Atonement  for  mankind. 
Meanwhile  Abraham,  agonising  and  philosophising,  rides. 
And  out  in  the  pastures  the  unwitting  victim  still  sports 
with  his  playmates.  At  last,  weary  of  games,  picque  en 
Rommey  crusoe,  and  the  rest,  they  are  betaking  themselves 
to  song.1  Says  Isaac, 

Cependant,  chantons  ung  petit 
Pour  nous  recreer.     Voulez  vous  ? 

But  Ishmael  replies, 

Si  j'avoye  ma  fleute  a  troys  troux, 
Dont  je  m'esbas  en  mon  lourdoys, 
Nonobstant  que  aye  bien  lourdz  doitz, 
Je  sonneroye  une  chanson, 
Ou  vous  danceriez  tous  au  son, 
Et  n'eussiez  de  dancer  envie. 

And  Eliezer  likewise  opines  that  had  he  only  his  pet  bag- 
pipe, reed  of  oaten  straw,  or  viol,  no  harp  could  please 
them  more.  Then  Ishmael  makes  the  best  of  things  as 
they  are,  and  unaccompanied  sings, 

II  n'est  tel  plaisir 
Que  estre  a  son  desir 
Couche  et  gesir 

Parmy  ses  beaux  champs, 
Fleurettes  choisir, 
Jouer  a  loysir 
Sans  nul  desplaisir, 

Et  passer  le  temps  ; 

1  I  have  availed  myself  of  the  variants  as  given  in  the  Mistere  as  pub- 
lished fur  the  Societe  des  Anciens  Textes  Fran^ais. 


THE   MYSTERIES   IN   FRANCE       221 

and  more  of  the  meadows,  and  the  songs  of  birds  far 
sweeter  than  the  tinkle  of  the  merchant's  gold.  Eliezer, 
in  turn,  carols  of  care-free  shepherds,  and  the  snatch  of 
sleep  under  the  vine  or  the  eglantine : 

Puis  quant  Tun  s'esveille 
Pour  faire  la  veille, 
Ung  aultre  sommeille 

Et  prent  son  repos ; 
L'ung  tire  1'oreille 
A  quelque  bouteille 
Soubz  la  verte  treille 

Et  boit  a  pleins  potz. 

So  they  continue  till  Abraham,  arriving,  calls  them  to  the 
journey  for  the  sacrifice  ordered  by  the  angel  of  the  Lord. 
What  follows,  interspersed  as  it  is  with  further  doc- 
trinal proceedings  in  Paradise,  is  hardly  less  pathetic 
than  the  best  of  the  English  plays.  It  is  certainly  more 
imaginative  and  more  skilfully  versified.  A  triolet  of 
father  and  son,  as  Isaac  lies  bound  for  the  slaughter,  suf- 
ficiently exemplifies  the  quality  of  the  French  treatment : 

Abr.    A  Dieu,  mon  fi\z.^ 
Isaac.  A  Dieu,  mon  pere. 

Bende  suys ;  de  bref  je  mourray  ; 
Plus  ne  voy  la  lumiere  clere. 
Abr.   A  Dieu,  mon  filz.  v 
Isaac.  A  Dieu,  mon  pere. 

Recommandes  moy  a  ma  mere ; 
Jamais  je  ne  la  reverray. 
Abr.    A  Dieu,  mon  filz.  ^ 
Isaac.  A  Dieu,  mon  pere. 

Bende  suys;  de  bref  je  mourray. 

Delicate,  but  how  different  from  the  poignant  simplicity 
of  the  Chester  play  and  its  congener,  the  Brome.  Says 
the  Isaac  of  the  former: 


222       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Father,  greete  well  my  brethren  yinge, 
And  praye  my  mother  of  her  blessinge, 
I  come  noe  more  under  her  wynge, 

Fare  well  for  ever  and  aye ; 
But,  father,  I  crye  you  of  mercye, 
For  all  that  ever  I  trespassed  to  thee, 
Forgeven,  father,  that  it  maye  be 

Untell  Domesdaie. 

Still  the  three  plays  were  evidently  derived  from  some 
common  original,  —  French  or  Anglo-Norman. 

The  pathos  of  the  Abraham  play  is  not  more  notable 
than  the  sublimity,  realism,  sometimes  the  buffoonery,  of 
other  of  the  French  mysteries.  The  Passion  plays,  dis- 
tinctively so-called,  are  noble  in  sentiment  as  well  as  style. 
The  birth  of  Moses  and  his  discovery  by  Pharaoh's 
daughter,  a  subject  neglected  by  the  English  playwrights, 
is  developed  with  a  realism  that  is,  to  say  the  least,  pretty; 
and  the  building  of  the  Tower  of  Babel  gives  opportunity 
for  a  graphic  illustration  of  the  manners  and  conversation 
of  mediaeval  craftsmen.  As  for  buffoonery,  no  English- 
man ever  dreamed  of  exploiting  the  bigamous  Lamech, 
the  impious  Ham,  the  daughters  of  Cain,  the  lecherous 
accusers  of  Susanna,  the  hordes  of  accessory  demons, 
knaves,  mendicants,  and  fools  as  they  are  exploited  in  the 
Viel  Testament. 

In  characterisation,  the  French  playwrights  leave  the 
English  far  behind  —  all  but  the  Master  of  Wakefield  at 
his  best.  The  perilous  femininity  of  Eve,  the  cunning  of 
Rebecca,  the  cruelty  of  Judah,  the  innate  humanity  of 
Reuben,  the  provoking  piety  and  self-conscious  superi- 
ority of  Joseph,  the  heroism  of  Judith,  are  conceptions 
of  an  art  no  longer  fumbling  or  na'ive.  The  characters, 
principal  and  secondary,  are  mirrored  from  the  real  world  ; 
they  live  the  mediaeval  life  in  all  its  detail  of  pompous  or 


THE   MYSTERIES   IN   FRANCE        223 

of  "  vulgar "  manners ;  they  indulge  in  the  luxury  of 
sincerity,  and  they  speak,  when  appropriate,  the  simple 
and  natural  patois  of  the  folk. 

In  inventive  imagination  and  dramatic  skill,  —  the  dif- 
ficult manipulation  of  extended  plots,  numerous  person- 
ages and  varied  tableaux,  of  parallel  scenes,  of  surprises 
and  of  critical  moments,  —  the  plays  of  Bathsheba  and 
David,  Judith,  Tobias,  and  Daniel  prophesy  the  tech- 
nique if  not  the  rhetoric  of  Corneille  and  Racine.  One 
cannot  shut  his  eyes  to  the  disparity  existent  between  Eng- 
lish miracles  and  the  Elizabethan  drama.  In  France; 
between  mystery  and  classical  drama  no  such  gulf  was 
fixed.  This  is  due  to  the  earlier  cultivation  there  of 
diversified  poetic  forms,  to  the  fact  that  the  French 
mysteries  as  we  have  them  were  collated  and  revised  as 
late  as  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  to  the  ulti- 
mate control  of  their  representation  by  literary  and  dra- 
matic societies  possessed  of  the  culture  and  influence  that 
marked  the  famous  Confrerie  de  la  Passion  of  Paris. 

I  have  more  than  once  mentioned  the  easy  versification 
of  these  plays.  Elaborate  forms  also  abound  :  triolets, 
rondels,  ballades,  and  the  chant  royal  with  double  refrain. 
If  it  were  not  for  lack  of  space,  some  of  these  should  be 
quoted.  But  I  content  myself  reluctantly  with  mere  ref- 
erence to  such  as  the  ballades  of  Seth,  Cain,  and  Pharaoh  ; 
the  rondel  of  Esau,  the  triolet  on  the  Death  of  Abel,  and 
the  chant  royal  of  Judith  and  the  Bethulians. 

The  sources  of  the  French  cycles  are  in  general  the 
same  as  those  of  the  English ;  and  the  latter  will  be  dis- 
cussed in  a  later  chapter.  The  Chester  cycle,  indeed,  in 
its  first  five  plays  has  directly  borrowed  from  early  ver- 
sions of  various  French  mysteries.1 
1  See  Appendix  A. 


224      PLAYS   OF   OUR  FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CURIOUS   TRADITIONS   IN   THE   CYCLES 

THE  ANGELIC  HIERARCHY  AND  THE  FALL  OF  LUCIFER 

CERTAIN  of  the  miracle  plays  are  especially  interesting 
because  they  develop  traditions  that  have  but  slight  basis 
in  scriptural  narrative,  or  none  at  all,  and  still  present 
them  as  material  of  common  acceptance  by  the  religious 
and  literary  consciousness  of  the  time. 

The  Fall  of  Lucifer  offered  to  our  forefathers  oppor- 
tunity for  a  dramatic  exordium  unusual,  mysterious,  sub- 
lime, and  spectacular  in  the  extreme.  All  the  English 
cycles  avail  themselves  of  it,  but  none  with  nicer  respect 
for  histrionic  arrangement  and  detail  than  that  of  Chester. 

God  is  on  his  throne  :  Ego  sum  Alpha  et  Omegay  primus 
et  ultimus, — 

It  is  my  will  it  should  be  so. 
It  is,  it  was,  it  shall  be  thus : 
I  am  great  God,  gracious 
Which  never  had  beginning. 

Wisdom,  beauty,  might  of  majesty  are  magnified  in  him 
who  is  the  Trinity,  "  Never  but  one,  And  ever  one  in 
three."  Now  will  he  build,  and  here,  a  boundless  Bliss  : 

A  heaven  without  ending ; 
And  cast  a  comely  compass 
By  comely  creation  — 
Nine  orders  of  angels 
Be  ever  at  once  descending ! 


CURIOUS  TRADITIONS  225 

With  the  rushing  of  many  wings  and  the  gleam  of  white 
and  gold,  and  solemn  strains  of  music  louder  and  louder 
growing,  and  a  great  burst  of  light,  the  new-created  hosts 
of  angels  surround  the  throne,  singing  Te  deum  laudamus^ 
te  dominum  confitemur. 

There  is  a  silence.     And  Lucifer  begins: 

Lord,  through  thy  might  thou  hast  us  wrought 

Nine  orders  here,  that  we  may  see 

Cherubin  and  seraphin,  through  thy  Grace, 

Thrones  and  dominations  in  bliss  to  be, 

With  principates,  that  order  bright, 

And  potestates  in  blissful  light, 

Also  virtu tes  through  thy  great  might, 

Angel  also  archangele. 

Nine  orders  now  here  be  witterly, 

That  thou  hast  made  here  full  right ; 

In  thy  bliss  full  bright  they  be, 

And  I  the  principal,  Lord,  here  in  thy  sight. 

The  Almighty  straightway  admonishes  Lucifer  and  Lu- 
cifer's other  self,  Lightborn,  that  they  be  lowly  : 

Exalt  you  not  too  excellent 

Into  high  exaltation; 

Look  that  you  tend  righteously; 

For  hence  I  will  be  wending. 

The  world  that  is  both  void  and  vain, 

I  form  in  the  formation 

With  a  dungeon  of  darkeness 

Which  never  shall  have  ending. 

Thereupon  the  world  has  being,  though  still  formless; 
and  hell  yawns  black  beneath.  Angels  and  archangels 
praise  their  "  Prince  withouten  peer,"  and  the  orders  nine 
chant  the  Dignus  Dei.  The  Creator  then  disposes  the 
orders  nine  according  to  their  degree.  Lucifer  he  seats 
next  unto  himself,  proclaiming  him  governor,  but  warn- 

15 


226      PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

ing  him,  "  Touch  not  my  throne  by  none  assent."  And 
to  all  he  says : 

Each  one  of  you  keep  well  his  place,  .  .  . 
For  I  will  wend  and  take  my  trace, 
And  see  this  bliss  in  every  tower." 

Once  the  splendour  of  Divinity  is  withdrawn  Lucifer's 
superiority  to  his  fellows  is  manifest: 

Aha  that  I  am  wondrous  bright, 
Among  you  all  shining  full  clear; 
Of  all  neaven  I  bear  the  light 
Though  God  himself,  an  he  were  here. 
All  in  this  throne  if  that  I  were 
Then  should  I  be  as  wise  as  he ; 
What  say  you,  angels,  all  that  be  here  ? 
Some  comfort  soon,  now  let  me  see. 

From  one  order  and  another  without  regard  to  degree 
comes  the  remonstrance :  from  virtues,  cherubim,  domi- 
nations, principalities,  seraphim,  thrones,  powers  — 

We  will  not  assent  unto  your  pride    .  .  . 
This  pride  will  turn  to  great  distress  .  .  . 
Cast  away  all  wicked  pride. 

But  Lucifer  is  consumed  with  the  brightness  of  his  glory, 
and  Lightborn  his  brother  urges  him  on.  "  In  faith,  you 
shall  sit  on  this  throne ;  shall  be  wise  as  God  himself: 

The  brightness  of  your  body  clear 
Is  brighter  than  God  a  thousand  fold." 

Again  the  holy  angels  plead — but  Lucifer: 

Go  hence  .  .  . 

Above  great  God  I  will  me  guide, 
And  see  myself  here  as  I  ween ; 
I  am  peerless  and  prince  of  pride, 
For  God  himself  snines  not  so  sheen. 


CURIOUS   TRADITIONS  227 

He  takes  the  awful  seat : 

Here  will  I  sit  now  in  his  stead. 
And  Lightborn : 

I  am  next  of  the  same  degree,  .  .  . 
All  orders  may  assent  to  thee  and  me. 

Dominations:  Alas,  why  make  you  this  great  offence  ?  .  .  . 

Lucifer:  I  rede  you  all  make  reverence, 

That  am  replete  with  heavenly  grace. 
Though  God  come,  I  will  not  hence, 
But  sit  right  here  before  his  face. 

GOD  enters 

Deus.    Say,  what  array  do  you  make  here  ? 
Who  is  your  chief  and  principal  ? 
I  made  thee  angel  and  Lucifier, 
And  here  thou  wouldst  be  lord  of  all ; 
Therefore,  I  charge  this  order  clear 
Fast  from  this  place  look  that  you  fall  .  .  . 
For  your  foul  pride  to  hell  you  shall !  — 
[Now  Lucifer  and  Lightborn  fall. ~\ 

And  in  the  abyss  they  lie,  assailing  one  the  other,  no 
longer  angels,  but  demons,  bewailing  their  lot,  knowing 
well  that  in  hell-fire  they  shall  abide  "  Till  the  day  of 
doom,  till  beames  [trumpets]  blow."  But  even  so,  one 
comfort  has  Lucifer : 

Therefore  I  shall  for  his  sake 
Shew  mankind  great  envy  ; 
As  soon  as  ever  he  can  him  make, 
I  shall  send  him  to  destroy ! 

God,  nevertheless,  will  have  his  intent : 

That  I  first  thought,  yet  so  will  I  ... 
A  full  fair  image  we  have  y-meant, 
That  the  same  seed  shall  multiply  .  .  . 


228       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Man,  accordingly,  is  created  as  a  new  or  tenth  order,  to 
supply  the  place  of  the  angels  who  had  fallen. 

Some  idea  of  the  variety  and  antiquity  of  the  materials 
that  constituted  what  one  may  call  the  literary  conscious- 
ness of  the  middle  ages  may  be  obtained  if  one  follow, 
even  in  a  general  way,  the  history  of  this  tradition  to  its 
sources.  Where,  for  instance,  arose  the  conception  of 
these  orders  nine  or  ten  of  angels,  and  of  the  sequence 
of  their  creation ;  whence  the  revolt  and  fall  of  Lucifer 
and  of  his  cohorts ;  whence  the  attribution  of  his  revolt 
to  pride,  and  the  story  of  man's  creation  as  a  substitute 
for  the  fallen  host  ? 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  "  ANGELIC  ORDERS  " 

First,  for  the  hierarchy  of  celestial  hosts.  This  is 
given  in  the  Chester  play  as  of  nine  orders,  —  cher- 
ubim, seraphim,  thrones,  dominations,  principalities, 
powers,  virtues,  angels,  and  archangels.  In  the  first 
York  play,  too,  though  the  names  of  the  orders  are  not 
given,  they  are  nine  in  number ;  and  in  the  seventh  play 
of  the  same  cycle  we  are  informed  that  of  each  of  those 
nine  orders  the  tenth  part  fell  in  Lucifer's  revolt.  In 
the  first  Wakefield  play,  however,  a  variant  is  introduced  ; 
for  Lucifer  says : 

X  orders  in  heven  were 
Of  angels  that  had  offyce  sere ; 
Of  each  order,  in  thare  degree 
The  X  parte  fell  downe  with  me. 

These  four  plays  were  composed  during  the  last  three 
quarters  of  the  fourteenth  century  ;  and  since  the  famous 
cyclic  poem  of  sacred  history,  the  Cursor  Mundi,  which 
was  written  as  early  as  1300,  mentions  both  orders  nine 


THE  ANGELIC   ORDERS  229 

and  orders  ten,  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  miracles  of 
Chester,  York,  and  Wakefield  derived  their  versions  of 
the  story  from  that  poem.  That  they  drew  upon  it  for 
other  material  is  well  known.  But  we  are  not  just  now 
concerned  with  that  question  ;  we  are  not  looking  for  the 
immediate,  but  the  remote,  source  of  the  tradition.  How 
old  are  these  factors  of  the  mediaeval  consciousness  ? 
Are  they  of  ecclesiastical  derivation ;  and  if  so,  of 
what  channels  other  than  the  canonical  books  of  Holy 
Scripture  ? 

The  story  may  be  traced  in  both  its  versions  through 
the  literature  and  theology  of  the  middle  and  dark  ages 
back  to  the  fourth  century,  where  we  find  Basil  the 
Great  and  Gregory  of  Nazianzus1  maintaining,  on  the 
basis  of  scriptural  authority,  the  conception  of  an  angelic 
hierarchy.  The  latter  of  these  goes  so  far  indeed  as  to 
enumerate  in  one  of  his  Orations  "certain  angels  and 
archangels,  thrones,  dominions,  principalities,  powers, 
brightnesses,  and  ascensions,  and  incorporeal  mighti- 
nesses (or  virtues)."  2  This  enumeration  is  doubly  in- 
teresting, first,  because  it  is  not  derived  directly  from  the 
scriptural  canon,  —  the  Nazianzen  to  the  contrary,  not- 
withstanding (but  of  that  later) ;  secondly,  because  it  is 
the  first  mention  in  Christian  literature  of  nine  orders 
and  of  their  names.  St.  Augustine,  writing  not  long 
after  that,  about  the  year  400,  professes  ignorance  of 
"  that  supernal  and  most  beatific  society,  its  distinctions, 
and  its  names " ;  but  the  Pseudo-Dionysius,  a  century 

1  See  Hagenbach,  History  of  Doctrines,  II,  45. 

3  d-yyeXAovs  rivas  KCU  ap^ayyc'Xous,  $povovs,  Kvpion/rasj  ap^as,  l£av- 
(rt'asj  \anirp6nrjTas,  dva^Scurets,  voepas  8wa/i«s  rj  voas.  Or  at. ,  xx  vi  ii,  3 1 . 
In  what  follows  from  other  authors,  I  have  kept  the  same  correspondents 
for  Greek  words. 


230       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

later  still,  in  his  Celestial  Hierarchy,  undertakes  not  only 
to  distinguish  by  name  and  quality,  but  by  precise 
analysis  of  rank.  There  are  three  classes  of  the  heav- 
enly host,  he  says,  and  these  are  subdivided  into  three 
orders  apiece :  the  first,  seraphim,  cherubim,  thrones ; 
the  second,  dominions,  and  virtues  or  mightinesses,  and 
powers ;  the  third,  principalities,  archangels,  and  angels. 
This  might  be  construed  as  a  rearrangement  of  the  list 
of  Gregory  Nanzianzen,  with  a  substitution  of  sera- 
phim for  ascensions,  —  which  is  but  natural,  since  the 
seraphs  are  the  six-winged  creatures  that  ascend  nearest 
to  God ;  and  of  cherubim  for  brightnesses.  I  think, 
however,  that  the  Pseudo-Dionysius  went  to  an  earlier 
source,  and  of  that  something  will  presently  be  said. 
His  "hierarchy"  was  adopted,  in  the  sixth  century,  by 
no  less  an  authority  than  Gregory  the  Great,  but  with 
two  changes.  In  one  discourse  Gregory  alters  the  rela- 
tive position  of  virtues  (or  mightinesses),  powers,  and 
principalities ;  and  for  this  Dante,  some  six  hundred 
years  later,  takes  him  seriously  to  task.  In  another,  he 
conveys,  by  a  certain  looseness  of  statement,  the  idea 
that  the  order  of  Lucifer  which  fell  was  from  the  first 
distinct  from  the  nine  which  remained  loyal.  Hence  the 
conflicting  tradition  of  ten  orders  that  re-emerges  in  the 
Later  Genesis  and  other  Anglo-Saxon  poems  of  the  ninth 
century ;  and  afterwards  in  the  sermons  of  ^Elfric,  who 
refers  to  Gregory  the  Great  as  his  authority,  saying  that 
the  orders  were  originally  ten,  —  "angels,  archangels, 
virtues,  powers,  principalities,  dominions,  thrones,  cheru- 
bim, seraphim,  and  another  which  fell.  Then  was  man- 
kind made  to  fill  the  room  of  the  lost  order." 

1  For  particulars,  see  Ungemach,  Quellen  d.  funf  trsten  Chester  Pfays, 
pp.  18-24. 


THE  ANGELIC   ORDERS  231 

This  explains  the  twofold  tradition  and  traces  the  con- 
ception of  a  hierarchy  as  far  back  as  the  Pseudo-Dionysius 
(c.  500),  and  the  Nazianzen  (A.  D.  300-390).  These  in 
turn  profess  to  have  drawn  their  inspiration  from  the 
Holy  Scriptures  ;  and  the  profession  is  not  wholly  to  be 
rejected.  For  in  Isaiah  there  appear  the  six-winged  ser- 
aphim ;  in  Ezekiel  the  cherubim  and  the  four  wheels  full 
of  eyes  (the  ophanim) ;  and  in  Daniel  the  angelic  hosts 
that  surround  the  Ancient  of  Days  and  the  flaming 
wheels.  Revelation  repeats  the  angelic  host  and  the  six- 
winged  creatures  "  full  of  eyes  within,"  and  adds  the 
seven  lamps  of  fire  that  are  Seven  Spirits  of  God,  and 
the  thrones  of  the  four  and  twenty  elders  about  him  who 
sat  upon  the  Throne ;  Colossians  mentions  thrones,  do- 
minions, principalities,  and  powers  ;  Epbesians,  —  princi- 
palities, powers,  mightinesses  (virtues)  and  dominions ; 
and  other  of  the  epistles  rehearse  with  variation  two, 
three,  or  four  of  the  same  celestial  orders.1  But  the 
enumerations  of  the  Old  Testament  writers  are  both  in- 
definite and  meagre ;  and  in  the  New  Testament  no  single 
enumeration  contributes  more  than  four  of  the  orders  to 
the  list  of  the  Nazianzen,  the  Pseudo-Dionysius,  or 
Gregory  the  Great.  It  is  therefore  much  more  likely 
that  the  carefully  organised  hierarchies  with  which  these 
authors  furnish  us  were  derived  from  neither  of  these 
sources,  but  from  some  authority  at  once  more  explicit 
and  comprehensive.  This  I  believe  to  be  the  newly 
discovered  apocalypse,  called  the  Secrets  of  Enoch,  which 
not  only  synopsises  all  earlier  Hebrew  fantasy  concerning 
the  constitution  of  the  heavenly  places,  but  is  itself  the 
source,  sometimes  even  to  words  and  their  order,  of  the 

1  Is.  vi,  I ;  Ez.  i  and  x  ;  Dan.  vii,  9,  10 ;  viii,  1 7-19  ;  Rev.  iv  ;  Col.  i, 
1 6  ;  Epb.  i,  21 ;  iii,  10;  Rom.  viii,  38  ;/  Pet.  iii,  22,  etc. 


2j2       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

passages  from  the  New  Testament  epistles,  cited  above. 
Since  there  is  also  a  Book  of  Enoch  of  somewhat  earlier 
origin,  known  as  the  Ethiopic,  it  is  sometimes  found  con- 
venient to  designate  the  Secrets  as  the  Slavonic.  This 
because,  as  its  recent  editor1  tells  us,  it  was  for  more  than 
twelve  hundred  years  unknown  save  in  Russia.  "  The 
book,"  he  continues, "  was  much  read  in  many  circles  in 
the  first  three  centuries  of  the  Church,  and  has  left  more 
traces  of  its  influence  than  many  a  well-known  book  of 
the  same  (apocalyptic)  literature."  It  purports  to  be  a 
series  of  visions  attributed  to  Enoch,  the  seventh  from 
Adam ;  and  is  essentially  different  from  the  Ethiopic 
Book  (170-64  B.  c.),  though  in  certain  passages  it  is  based 
upon  the  older  apocalypse. 

Some  parts  of  this  Secrets  of  Enoch  are  assigned  to  a 
date  as  early  as  30  B.  c.,  and  they  were  originally  of 
Hebrew  composition  ;  but  the  apocalypse,  as  a  whole,  was 
cast  into  its  present  literary  form  in  Greek  by  an  Alexan- 
drian Jew  during  the  first  fifty  years  of  our  era.  While, 
on  the  one  hand,  it  displays  familiarity  with  the  historical 
books  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  Psalms,  and  the  books 
of  wisdom  and  prophecy,  it  anticipates,  on  the  other, 
both  in  material  and  style,  utterances  to  be  found  in  the 
gospels,  the  epistles  attributed  to  St.  Paul  and  St.  Peter, 
and  the  Book  of  Revelation,  the  later  Christian  apoca- 
lypses, the  Sibylline  Oracles  and  the  Testaments  of  the 
Twelve  Patriarchs ;  conceptions  developed  by  Augustine, 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  Philo,  Origen,  and  other  of  the 
Christian  Fathers;  and  traditions  delivered  by  the  un- 
known author  of  that  strange  product  of  the  fifth 
century,  —  the  Book  of  Adam  and  Eve. 

1  The  Book  of  the  Secrets  of  Enoch.  Tr.  by  W.  R.  Morfill ;  ed.  by 
R.  H.  Charles. 


THE  ANGELIC   ORDERS  233 

In  a  chapter  of  the  earlier  apocalypse  of  Enoch, 
known  as  the  Ethiopic,1  the  seer,  speaking  of  the  glorious 
judgment  of  the  heavenly  ones  by  the  Lord  of  Spirits,  had 
said:  "And  He  will  call  on  all  the  host  of  the  heavens 
and  all  the  holy  ones  above,  and  the  host  of  God,  the 
cherubim,  seraphim,  and  ophanim,  and  all  the  angels  of 
power,  and  all  the  angels  of  principalities,  and  the  Elect 
One,  and  the  other  powers  on  the  earth,  and  over  the 
water,  on  that  day."  This  passage  was  written  somewhere 
between  94  and  64  B.  c.  It  gathers  materials  from  Isaiah 
and  Ezekiel  and  the  Psalms  for  a  more  definite  enumer- 
ation of  the  heavenly  hosts.  But  it  is  in  the  Secrets  of 
Enoch,  in  a  passage  based  upon  this,  that,  some  thirty 
years  before  the  Christian  era,  the  heavenly  hosts  receive 
their  most  majestic  and  their  first  systematic  elaboration. 

"  There  was  a  very  wise  man  and  a  worker  of  great 
things :  God  loved  him,  and  received  him,  so  that  he 
should  see  the  heavenly  abodes,  the  kingdom  of  the 
wise,  great,  inconceivable  and  never-changed  God  ".  .  .  . 
So  begins  the  Enoch  of  the  Secrets.  "  Hear  me,  my 
children,  for  I  do  not  know  whither  I  am  going,  or 
what  awaits  me.  .  .  .  Make  confident  your  hearts  in  the 
fear  of  God."  Thus  speaking  the  wise  man  is  translated 
by  angels.  He  sees  the  denizens  of  the  various  heavens 
to  the  sixth,  the  Place  of  the  Righteous  and  the  Terrible 
Places,  and  finally  the  Heaven  that  is  highest  and  the 
seventh:2 

"  And  I  saw  there  a  very  great  Light,  and  all  the  fiery 
hosts  of  archangels,  and  incorporeal  powers ;  and  do- 
minions and  principalities  and  powers  (over  things  cor- 
poreal) ;  and  cherubim  and  seraphim  and  thrones ;  and 

1  Ixi,  10. 

3  Secrets  of  Enoch,  xx,  1-4.    Tr.  by  Morfill. 


2j4       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  watchfulness  of  many  eyes."  Here  the  "  very  great 
Light"  is  the  Light  of  the  Holy  Ones  above  —  the  an- 
gels par  excellence  as  separate  from  the  host  of  the  heav- 
ens. Just  so  in  the  Ethiopia  Enoch,  we  have  "  He  will 
call  on  all  the  host  of  the  heavens  and  all  the  holy  ones 
above."  And  the  "  incorporeal  powers  "  are  the  virtues 
of  Gregory  or  the  principalities  of  Dionysius  :  it  matters 
little  which.  Excluding  the  "  watchfulness  of  many  eyes," 
we  have  in  this  the  original  of  the  nine  orders  of  angels 
known  to  the  early  Fathers  and  the  fathers  of  the  medi- 
aeval stage.  The  orders  are  even  arranged  in  the  ternaries 
from  which  those  of  Dionysius,  Gregory  the  Great,  and 
Dante  have  descended:  angels,  archangels,  and  virtues; 
dominions,  principalities,  and  powers;  cherubim  and  ser- 
aphim and  Thrones. 

In  the  "  many  eyes  "  we  have  that  tenth  order  which 
all  the  three-times-three  of  Dante  and  the  theologians 
could  not  suppress —  the  order  of  the  ophanim,  those 
living  wheels  of  eyes  that  go  beside  the  cherubim  of 
Ezekiel's  vision  —  "  As  for  their  rings  they  were  so  high 
that  they  were  dreadful ;  and  their  rings  were  full  of  eyes 
round  about  them  four."  "  There  were  ten  troops," 
proceeds  the  Seer  of  the  Secrets ,  "a  station  of  brightness ; 
and  I  was  afraid  and  troubled  with  a  great  terror.  .  .  . 
And  all  the  heavenly  hosts  having  approached  stood 
on  the  ten  steps  according  to  their  rank ;  and  made 
obeisance  to  the  Lord.  And  so  they  proceeded  to  their 
places  in  joy  and  mirth  and  in  boundless  light,  singing 
songs  with  low  and  gentle  voices,  and  gloriously  serving 
him.  " 

The  traditions  of  the  orders,  with  which  our  forefathers 
of  the  miracle  plays  were  familiar,  those  of  Erigena  and 
and  of  the  Cursor  Mundi,  and  other  mediaeval 


THE  ANGELIC   ORDERS  235 

poems,  are,  therefore,  descended  from  Hebrew  apoca- 
lypses of  the  century  preceding  the  foundation  of  Chris- 
tianity. Strange  to  think  that  out  of  wells  of  fancy,  yes, 
of  inspiration,  so  remote,  so  long  discredited  by  the  very 
church  that  fostered  the  liturgical  plays  of  our  mediaeval 
ancestors,  those  ancestors  should  have  drunk  draughts 
of  poetry  in  simple  faith  that  they  were  draughts  of 
dogma  originating  in  the  Christian  church.  Still  stranger 
to  reflect  that  out  of  this  non-canonical  apocalyptic  litera- 
ture proceeded  much  other  that  is  most  sublime  and 
poetically  true  in  the  canon  as  accepted  by  that  church. 
Religion,  in  her  mysterious  avatars,  is  mother  and  foster- 
mother  of  more  children  of  the  House  Beautiful  than  we 
moderns  ordinarily  apprehend. 

From  the  same  unconsidered  source  flows  the  allied 
tradition  also,  that  man  was  created  not  "  a  little  lower 
than  the  angels,"  but  as  the  miracle  plays  have  it,  an 
order  like  unto  them.  "  For  man,"  says  the  Ethiopic 
Enoch*  "  was  created  exactly  like  the  angels  to  the  in- 
tent that  he  should  continue  righteous  and  pure ;  and 
death  which  destroys  everything  could  not  have  taken 
hold  of  him,  but  through  this  their  knowledge  (knowl- 
edge of  the  bitter  and  the  sweet  imparted  by  evil  an- 
gels) they  are  perishing."  And  in  the  somewhat  more 
recent  Secrets  of  Enoch2  the  words  of  God  run  thus: 
"On  the  sixth  day,  I  ordered  my  Wisdom  to  make  man 
.  .  .  and  I  placed  him  upon  the  earth  ;  like  a  second 
angel,  in  an  honourable,  great,  and  glorious  way." 

That  the  angels  were  created  on  the  first  day,  as  the 

cycles  of  Chester  and  York  inform  us,  is  another  tradition 

not  found  in   the  books  of  the  scriptural  canon.      It 

derives  from  the  Book  of  Jubilees,  a  kind  of  revision  and 

1  Book  of  Enoch,  Ixix,  1 1 .  2  Seer.  Enoch,  xxx,  8,  1 1 . 


236       PLAYS  OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

enlargement,  or  Targum,  of  Genesis  and  Exodus,  written 
originally  in  Hebrew  over  a  hundred  years  before  Christ.1 
This  story,  as  well  as  that  of  the  subsequent  construction 
of  Hell,  descended  to  the  Cursor  Mundi  and  the  miracle 
plays,  by  way  of  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  and  his  younger 
contemporary,  St.  Augustine.  Of  these  the  former,  in- 
deed, was  of  the  opinion  that  the  angels  were  the  entire 
rational  world  created  prior  to  the  world  of  sense  or 
matter2;  but  St.  Augustine  held  that  while  they  are 
themselves  the  light  which  was  created  in  the  beginning 
before  all  other  creatures,  this  one  day  of  light  included 
the  other  days  of  creation.8 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  "  FALL  OF  LUCIFER  " 

Of  the  splendour  of  Lucifer,  his  pride  and  rebellion,  his 
fall  with  those  whom  he  had  seduced,  and  his  malignity 
against  man  —  the  tradition  is  even  more  ancient.  The 
pride  of  the  morning-star  and  his  rebellion  against  the 
God  of  Light  was  poetry  of  Babylonian  myth  long  before 
Abram  left  Ur  of  the  Chaldees  to  seek  him  out  a  new 
country  in  the  West.  The  followers  of  Zoroaster,  too, 
had  their  doctrine  of  the  seven  heavens  and  of  a  hell  for 
the  spirits  of  defection.  The  sources  of  the  antagonism 
between  the  fallen  spirits  and  the  human  usurpers  of  their 
room  are  indeed  principally  extra-biblical. 

It  is  in  an  ode  denunciatory  of  Sennacherib,*  which 
some  post-exilic  poet  has  splendidly  interpolated  into  the 
prophecy  of  the  older  Isaiah,  that  the  Hebrew  conscious- 

1  Jub.  ii,  2 ;  edited  by  R.  H.  Charles. 

*  Greg.  Naz.,  Or  at,  xxxviii,  9. 

•  De.  Civ.  Dei,  xi,  9,  quoted  by  Cursor,  1.  360;  Hagenbach,  H'utory 
qfDtctrines,  II,  43-45. 

4  Isaiah  xiv,  1 2-2 1 . 


THE   FALL   OF   LUCIFER  237 

ness  of  the  Lucifer  legend  first  finds  such  expression  as 
we  still  possess.  Likening  the  long-since  murdered  Assy- 
rian, the  conqueror  of  Hezekiah,  to  "  Lucifer,  son  of  the 
morning,"  this  poet  cries  "  How  art  thou  fallen  from 
heaven  !  .  .  .  For  thou  hast  said  in  thy  heart,  I  will  ascend 
into  heaven,  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of 
God :  I  will  sit  upon  the  mount  of  the  congregation,  in 
the  sides  of  the  north  :  I  will  ascend  above  the  heights 
of  the  clouds  ;  I  will  be  like  the  most  High.  Yet  thou 
shalt  be  brought  down  to  hell,  to  the  sides  of  the  pit." 

These  star-like  angels,  Lucifer  the  arch-conspirator,  his 
camp  in  the  sides  of  the  north,  and  his  fall  to  the  stones 
of  the  pit,  —  a  legend  learned  by  a  Hebrew  exile  prob- 
ably from  his  Persian  deliverers,  in  the  fifth  or  sixth 
century  before  Christ,  are  the  ultimate  inspiration  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  Caedmon  and  the  dramatists  of  Chester  and 
York.  But  the  legend  had  yet  to  receive  the  impress 
of  many  minds  before  it  reached  the  religious  and  artistic 
consciousness  of  the  middle  ages. 

No  work  of  pre-Christian  authorship  is  more  gorgeous 
with  description  of  the  origin  and  early  fable  of  the 
universe  than  the  Ethiopic  Enoch.  "In  Genesis  v,  24, 
it  is  said  of  Enoch  that  he  walked  with  God.  This 
expression  was  taken  in  later  times  to  mean  not  only  that 
he  led  a  godly  life,  but  also  that  he  was  the  recipient 
of  superhuman  knowledge.  It  was  not  unnatural,  there- 
fore, that  an  apocalyptic  literature  should  begin  to  cir- 
culate under  his  name  in  the  centuries  when  such 
literature  was  rife."  With  the  visions  and  similitudes 
attributed  to  Enoch  "  all  the  writers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment were  familiar,  and  were  more  or  less  influenced 
by  them  in  thought  and  diction.  The  book  is  quoted  as 
a  genuine  production  of  Enoch  by  S.  Jude,  and  as 


238       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Scripture  by  S.  Barnabas.  The  authors  of  the  Book  of 
Jubilees ,  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch  and  IV.  Ezra,  laid  it 
under  contribution.  With  the  earlier  Fathers  and  Apol- 
ogists it  had  all  the  weight  of  a  canonical  book,  but 
toward  the  close  of  the  third  and  the  beginning  of  the 
fourth  centuries  it  began  to  be  discredited,  and  finally 
fell  under  the  ban  of  the  Church.  Almost  the  latest 
reference  to  it  in  the  Early  Church  is  made  by  George 
Syncellus  in  his  Chronography,  about  800  A.  D.,  who 
has  preserved  for  us  some  long  passages  in  Greek.  The 
book  was  then  lost  sight  of  till  1773,  when  an  Ethiopic 
version  of  it  was  found  in  Abyssinia  by  Bruce."  1  This 
apocalypse  holds  the  reader  with  a  rare  fascination.  Not 
only  for  its  wealth  of  traditional  Hebrew,  and  other 
oriental,  sacred  lore,  its  majestic  visions  and  similitudes, 
its  opulent  imagery  and  sonorous  diction,  but  also  for  its 
frequent  anticipation  of  doctrines  ordinarily  supposed  to 
have  originated  with  the  foundation  of  Christianity  and 
the  writers  of  the  New  Testament.  It  preaches  a  per- 
sonal Messiah  as  "  Christ,"  "  the  Anointed,"  "  the  Right- 
eous," "the  Elect,"  "the  Son  of  Man";  it  foresees  the 
resurrection  of  all  Israelites  (first  taught,  says  Mr. 
Charles,  beyond  possibility  of  doubt  in  Daniel,  chapter 
xii,2  but  here  made  a  commonplace  of  Jewish  theology), 
the  final  judgment  and  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah  ;  and  it  develops  the  doctrine  of  "  the  angels 
which  kept  not  their  first  estate."  With  the  last  of  these 
teachings  we  are  at  present  concerned. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  Genesis  there  are  pre- 
served two  versions  of  the  Fall  of  the  Angels,  one  assuming 

1  R.  H.   Charles  in  the  Gen.  Introd.  to  his  collated  edition  of  the 
Book  of  Enoch.     Oxford:   1893. 

a  Written  c.  164  B.  c.,  according  to  Encyclopedia  Biblica. 


-       .,-e- 


so  o 
o  «> 
o  o 


\  1  "r^Sewr^vV    V\^ 


THE   FALL   OF   LUCIFER  239 

their  defection  before  the  creation  of  man,  as  indicated  by 
the  presence  of  the  Serpent  in  the  garden  of  Eden ;  the 
other  implying  that  the  Sons  of  God  sinned  first  only 
when  they  had  looked  upon  the  daughters  of  men  and 
seen  that  they  were  fair.  The  second  of  these  versions 
underlies  the  account  given  in  the  Ethiopic  Book  of 
Enoch,  but  that  account  itself  supplies  many  of  the 
particulars  used  by  later  fabulists  to  elaborate  the  other 
tradition  of  the  angelic  catastrophe,  viz.t  that  it  was  not 
for  lust  but  by  arrogance  and  rebellion. 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,"  says  Enoch,1  whose  eyes  were 
opened  by  God  that  he  might  see  a  vision  of  the  Holy 
One  in  the  heavens,  "when  the  children  of  men  had 
multiplied  in  those  days,  that  beautiful  and  comely 
daughters  were  born  unto  them.  And  the  angels,  the 
sons  of  the  heavens,  saw  and  lusted  after  them,  and 
spake  to  one  another,  '  Come,  now  let  us  choose  wives 
from  among  the  children  of  men  and  beget  children.' ' 
And  they,  who  being  immortal  had  not  need  to  perpetuate 
their  race  as  do  the  mortals  of  the  earth,  took  mortal 
wives  and  taught  them  evil,  and  sinned  themselves ;  and 
all  the  ways  of  man  became  corrupt.  And  the  women 
bore  unto  the  angels  giants,  whose  ghosts  should  in  time 
become  the  spirits  of  evil,  walking  to  and  fro  upon  the 
earth.  "  And  the  Lord  spake  to  Rafael,2  '  Bind  Azazel 
(the  chief  offending  son  of  the  heavens)  hand  and  foot, 
and  place  him  in  the  darkness  :  make  an  opening  in  the 
desert,  which  is  Dudael,  and  place  him  therein.  And 
place  upon  him  rough  and  jagged  rocks,  and  cover  him 
with  darkness,  and  let  him  abide  there  forever,  and  cover 
his  face  that  he  may  not  see  the  light.  And  on  the  great 
day  of  judgment  he  shall  be  cast  into  fire.  .  .  .  And  I  will 

1  Book  of  Enoch ,  vi,  1-2.  *  Enoch  x,  4-7. 


24o       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

heal  the  earth,  that  all  the  children  of  men  shall  not  perish 
through  all  the  secret  things  that  the  Watchers  (from  the 
heavens)  have  disclosed  and  have  taught  their  sons.'"1 
..."  And  I  went  round,"  says  Enoch,  "  to  the  place 
of  chaos.  And  I  saw  there  something  horrible ;  I  saw 
neither  a  heaven  above  nor  a  firmly  founded  earth,  but  a 
place  chaotic  and  horrible.  And  here  I  saw  seven  stars 
of  the  heaven  bound  together  in  it,  like  mountains,  and 
flaming  as  with  fire.  On  this  account  I  said,  *  For  what 
sin  are  they  bound,  and  on  what  account  have  they  been 
cast  in  hither? '  Then  spake  Uriel,  one  of  the  holy 
angels,  who  was  with  me  and  was  chief  over  them,  and 
said,  '  Wherefore  dost  thou  ask,  and  why  dost  thou  en- 
quire and  art  curious  ?  These  are  the  stars  which  have 
transgressed  the  commandment  of  God,  and  are  bound 
here  till  ten  thousand  ages,  the  number  of  the  days  of 
their  guilt,  are  consummated.'  And  from  thence  I  went 
to  another  place  which  was  still  more  horrible  than  the 
former,  and  I  saw  a  horrible  thing.  .  .  .  And  Uriel 
spake  to  me,  c  This  place  is  the  prison  of  the  angels,  and 
here  they  will  be  imprisoned  for  ever.' ' 

Now  these  portions  of  the  apocalypse  were  written 
before  170  B.  c. ;  but  the  following  interpolation,  written 
shortly  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  assigns  a  reason  for 
the  punishment  of  the  angels  more  consonant  with  the 
tradition  of  rebellious  pride.  The  angel  of  the  eigh- 
teenth chapter  shows  Enoch  seven  stars  in  a  bottomless 
pit,  "  stars  like  great  burning  mountains,  and  like  spirits 
which  besought  me.  .  .  .  '  This  is,'  said  the  angel,  *  where 
heaven  and  earth  terminate;  it  serves  for  a  prison  for  the 
stars  of  heaven  and  the  host  of  heaven.  And  the  stars 
which  roll  over  the  fire  are  they  which  have  transgressed 
1  Enoch  xxi,  i-io. 


THE    FALL   OF    LUCIFER  241 

the  commandment  of  God  before  their  rising,  because 
they  did  not  come  forth  at  the  appointed  time.'"  "And 
again  I  saw,"  says  the  Enoch  of  Chapters  Ixxxvi  and 
Ixxxviii,1  "  and  behold  a  star  fell  from  heaven  .  .  and 
behold  I  saw  many  stars  cast  themselves  down  from 
heaven  to  that  first  star.  .  .  .  And  the  stars  were  bound 
hand  and  foot  and  laid  in  the  abyss." 

In  other  apocalyptic  books,  such  as  the  Slavonic 
Secrets  of  Enochy  30  B.  €.-50  A.  D.,  and  in  the  legal- 
istic Book  of  Jubilees  of  a  somewhat  earlier  possible 
date,  the  story  is  similarly  told.  In  the  sixth  chapter 
of  the  Book  of  the  Secrets,  Enoch  sees  in  the  second 
Heaven  prisoners  suspended,  reserved  for  eternal  judg- 
ment. They  are  the  angels  who  apostatised  from  the 
Lord,  and  transgressed  with  their  prince  ;  they  are  gloomy 
m  appearance  more  than  the  darkness  of  the  earth,  and 
unceasingly  they  weep.  In  the  twenty-ninth  chapter, 
which  elaborates  upon  the  Isaian  ode,  God  says,  "  One 
of  these  in  the  ranks  of  the  Archangels,  having  turned 
away  with  the  rank  below  him,  entertained  an  impossible 
idea  that  he  should  make  his  throne  higher  than  the 
clouds  over  the  earth,  and  should  be  equal  in  rank  to 
my  power.  And  I  hurled  him  from  the  heights  with  his 
angels.  And  he  was  flying  in  the  air  continually,  above 
the  abyss." 

Filtering  through  devious  channels,  the  conception  of 
the  imprisoned  angels  reappears  in  the  Testaments  of 
the  Twelve  Patriarchs  (about  I  A.  D.),  in  the  Book  of  Rev- 
elation (about  70-96  A.  D.),  in  Luke  (about  79-96  A.  D.), 
and  in  Jude,  the  author  of  which  styles  himself  "  the  ser- 
vant of  Jesus  Christ  and  brother  of  James,"  but  in  fact 
lived  about  the  end  of  the  first,  or  in  the  second, 

1  Written  about  B.  c.  1 6 1 . 
16 


PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

century.  Later  still,  the  conception  appears  in  the 
Second  Epistle  General  of  Peter  (probably  the  production 
of  the  middle  of  the  second  century  after  Christ). 

From  the  apocalypses  of  Enoch  are  descended  the 
famous  verses  of  Judet  "  The  angels  which  kept  not 
their  first  estate,  but  left  their  own  habitation,  he  hath  re- 
served in  everlasting  chains  under  the  darkness  unto  the 
judgment  of  the  great  day ; "  *  and  his  "  Enoch  also,  the 
seventh  from  Adam,  prophesied  of  these."2  Hence, 
also,  the  vision  of  St.  John  the  Divine,  of  the  dragon, 
who  with  his  tail  drew  the  third  part  of  the  stars  of 
heaven  and  cast  them  to  the  earth.  "  And  there 
was  war  in  heaven.  Michael  and  his  angels  fought 
against  the  dragon ;  and  the  dragon  fought,  and  his  an- 
gels, and  prevailed  not;  neither  was  their  place  found 
any  more  in  heaven.  And  the  great  dragon  was  cast 
out,  that  old  serpent,  called  the  Devil  and  Satan,  which 
deceived  the  whole  world ;  he  was  cast  out  into  the 
earth,  and  his  angels  were  cast  out  with  him."  8  Also  that 
other  vision  of  the  fifth  angel  who  sounded,  "  and  I  saw 
a  star  fall  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  to  him  was  given 
the  key  of  the  bottomless  pit.  .  .  .  And  they  had  a 
king  over  them  which  is  the  angel  of  the  bottomless  pit, 
whose  name  in  the  Hebrew  tongue  is  Abaddon,  but  in 
the  Greek  tongue  hath  his  name  Apollyon."  4  And  the 
words  of  Jesus  to  the  Seventy,  recorded  by  Luke  (x,  18), 
"  I  beheld  Satan  as  lightning  fall  from  heaven." 

1  Jude  6;  Enoch  x,  5-13,  and  Seer.  Enoch,  vi. 

*  Jude  14;   Enoch  Ix,  8. 

*  Rev.  xii  ;   Enoch  Ixxxvi,  I  ;  liv,  5-6  ;  Ixix,  5,  6,  and  Seer.  Enoch, 
passim.     For   Michael,  sec   Enoch  x,   11,  and  elsewhere.     For  Satan, 
Seer.  Enoch,  xviii,  3  ;  xxix,  4;  xxxi,  4. 

4  Rev.  ix;  xx  ;  Enoch  xc,  24;  Seer.  Enoch,  xlii,  I. 


THE   FALL   OF   LUCIFER  243 

As  we  have  seen,  the  biblical  account  in  Genesis  vi,  and 
some  of  the  accounts  in  Jewish  apocalyptic  literature, 
pointed  to  lasciviousness  as  the  initium  peccati.  But  from 
the  time  when  Chrysostom  and  St.  Augustine  in  the 
fourth  century  began  to  explain  the  commerce  of  the 
Sons  of  God  with  the  daughters  of  men  in  terms  of 
the  intermarriage  of  the  descendants  of  Seth,  who  were 
righteous,  with  the  daughters  of  the  Cainites,  who  were 
fair  but  carnal-minded,  that  explanation  of  the  sin  of  the 
angels  was  relegated  to  the  background.  Pride  is  the 
motive  advanced  by  Eusebius  of  Caesarea  about  the  year 
300,  and  to  this  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  in  the  following 
century  adds  "  envy."  It  is  in  the  hexameters  of  Bishop 
Avitus,  in  the  early  sixth  century,  that  the  legend  of  an- 
gelic insolence  is  first  fully  developed ;  and  in  the  Morals 
and  Homilies  of  Gregory  the  Great  at  the  end  of  that 
century  the  doctrine  is  elaborated.  "  The  first  and  more 
noble  creature  was  the  Angel  who  fell  .  .  .  and  his  first 
folly  was  arrogance."  Upon  the  testimony  of  these 
two  bishops,  one  of  Vienne,  the  other  of  Rome,  the 
English  tradition  mainly  rests.  In  the  seventh  century 
Caedmon  and  Bede  resume  the  story,  the  former  to  poet- 
ise, the  latter  to  instruct ;  and  the  same  influence  is  even 
more  marked  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  poem  of  the  Later 
Genesis  and  the  Homilies  of  ^Ifric.  This  brings  us 
down  to  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century.  On 
the  continent,  meanwhile,  that  devoted  student  of  apoca- 
lyptic literature,  Syncellus,  had  written.  He  is  the 
forefather,  with  his  Chronographia,  about  800  A.  D.,  of 
the  tribe  of  cyclic  writers  of  traditional  history  to  which 
Peter  Comestor  and  Jacopus  de  Voragine  and  the  author 
of  the  Curser  o'  Werld  belong.  But  Syncellus,  himself, 
is  the  last  to  base  directly  on  the  Books  of  Enoch,  and  to 


244      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

retail  the  wantonness  of  the  Sons  of  God.  The  others 
adopt  the  tradition  of  Lucifer's  pride ;  though,  indeed, 
Satan  is  not  generally  identified  by  name  with  the  Lucifer 
of  the  Ode  in  Isaiah  xvi,  before  the  time  of  Anselm  * 
(1034-1093)  Comestor  in  his  Historia  Scholastica  calls 
him  Lucifer  outright,  and  the  Legenda  Aurea  about 
one  century  later  (1275)  quotes  the  passage  verbatim; 
while  the  Seraphic  Doctor,  Bonaventura  (1257)  ex- 
plains, saying, "  Dictus  est  autem  Lucifer  quia  pr<s  ceteris 
luxit,  suaeque  pulchritudinis  consideratio  eum  excoecavit." 
Among  the  earlier  Fathers  of  the  Church,  Eusebius  was 
the  only  one  who  applied  the  appellation  "  Lucifer  "  to 
the  devil.  Neither  Jerome  nor  Augustine  ever  did  so.2 

Following  Peter  Comestor  the  Early  English  Genesis 
and  Exodus  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century 
hands  down  in  more  modern  style  and  more  extended 
form  than  England  hitherto  had  known  the  story  of  a 
pride-inflated  Angel's  doom.  Duns  Scotus  c.  (1300) 
finds  the  word  luxuria  more  appropriate  to  the  sin. 

To  another  non-scriptural  assumption  of  the  Chester 
Play,  that  man  was  made  in  place  of  the  ruined  angels, 
and  that  because  of  this  insult  to  his  order,  Lucifer 
contrived  the  expulsion  of  Adam  and  Eve  from  Paradise, 
we  have  already  once  or  twice  adverted.  These  tradi- 
tions are  implied  or  explicit  in  the  four  great  English 
cycles  and  in  the  Cornish  plays.  Indeed  the  Cornish 
Origo  Mundi*  and  the  N-Town  play4  emphasise  the 
element  of  grudge  in  the  Devil's  procedure,  by  intro- 
ducing a  little  scene,  unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  cycles, 
in  which  Deus  draws  from  Diabolus  this  motive  of  his 
action.  The  traditions  in  general  are  found  in  the  Cursor, 

1  De  Casu  Diaboli.  *  Hagcnbach,  Hist.  Doctr.,  II,  237  a. 

«  1.  300.  «  Fall  of  Man. 


THE   FALL   OF   LUCIFER  245 

and  the  Legenda  Aurea  ;  the  latter  of  which  uses  Peter 
Comestor's  exact  phraseology,  Luctfer  enim  dejectus  para- 
diso  spirituum  invidit  homini,  etc.  —  "  Lucifer,  which  was 
deject  and  cast  out  of  heaven,  had  great  envy  to  man 
that  was  bodily  in  Paradise,  and  knew  well,  if  he  might 
make  him  to  trespass  and  break  God's  commandments, 
that  he  should  be  cast  out  also."1  The  story  of  man's 
substitution  runs  back  through  Anglo-Saxon  literature,2 
Avitus  of  Vienne,  and  Anselm's  famous  treatise  Cur  Deus 
y  to  Gregory  and  Augustine. 


1  Caxton's  translation:   The  Golden  LfgeaJ,  Hist.  Adam. 
a  ^Elfric  and  the  Later  Genesis. 


246       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   OIL   OF   MERCY  AND   THE   HOLY 
ROOD-TREE 

OF  the  episodes  dramatised  in  the  various  cycles  no 
fewer  than  ten  are  drawn  from  a  legend  almost  faded  out 
of  memory  nowadays,  but  well  known  to  church  and 
people  in  the  middle  ages.  The  history  of  the  Holy 
Rood-Tree,  that  is  to  say  of  the  wood  from  which  the 
Cross  was  made,  is  of  such  antiquity  and  it  so  deeply 
coloured  the  poetic  consciousness  of  our  forefathers  that 
it  should  certainly  be  reintroduced  to  their  children  of 
to-day.  It  is  closely  affiliated  with  two  other  legends, 
one  of  which,  the  Promise  of  the  Oil  of  Mercy,  derives 
from  sources  still  more  ancient  than  Christianity  itself, 
while  the  other,  known  as  the  Harrowing  of  Hell,  has 
its  origin  both  in  early  Christian  and  earlier  Jewish  apoc- 
alyptic literature. 

The  authors  of  the  miracle  plays  upon  these  subjects 
drew  their  inspiration,  of  course,  from  the  oral  tradition 
of  their  day  or  from  written  versions  in  Latin,  French, 
and  English  of  the  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth 
centuries,  in  especial  from  the  Golden  Legend  of  Voragine 
and  the  Cursor  Mundi.  Of  these  I  have  most  closely 
followed  the  last  in  my  restatement  of  the  story ;  but 
concerning  the  other  sources  I  shall  append  a  few  remarks 
at  the  close  of  this  section. 


THE   OIL   OF    MERCY  247 

THE  MISSION  OF  SETH   AND  THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    OIL 

When  Adam,  having  sinned  by  eating  with  Eve  of  the 
forbidden  fruit  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge  "  that  stood 
a-midward  paradise,"  was  put  out  of  the  garden,  God 
did  not  leave  him  altogether  comfortless  : 

Ye  shall  be  flemed  [banished]  fro  my  face 

Till  that  I  sende  you  my  grace  : 

The  oil  of  mercy  ye  must  abide 

I  hete  [promise]  to  send  it  you,  some  tide. 

And  even  in  the  wretched  world  without,  where  children 
were  born  to  him  and  Eve,  and  where  sorrow  came  with 
the  death  of  Abel,  some  comfort  was  vouchsafed ;  for 
after  a  hundred  winters  of  grief —  then 

was  born  an  holy  child, 
Seth  that  was  both  meek  and  mild, 
Of  whom  Christ  himselven  cam 
Full  far  to  tell  fro  first  Adam, 
This  child  was  Godde's  prive  friend 
And  truly  yielded  him  his  tend  [tithe]. 

And  when  Adam,  being  nine  hundred  years  old  and  more, 
began  to  feel  unsound,  it  was  to  Seth,  of  all  his  thirty 
sons  and  thirty  daughters,  that,  leaning  upon  his  spade  one 
day,  or  some  say  his  hatchet,  he  confided  himself.  In 
fact,  there  are  who  say  that  Adam  was  on  his  death- 
bed, and  thence  spake  to  Seth,  in  especial,  of  all  the 
sixty  children  of  his  loins  : 

"  Son,"  he  said,  "  thou  must  now  go 

To  Paradise  that  I  came  fro 

To  the  cherubin  that  is  gateward." 

"  Yea,  sir,"  said  Seth,  "  but  whitherward." 

"  Soon,"  said  Adam,  "  I  shall  thee  say 

How-gate  thou  shalt  take  thy  right  way : 


248       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Toward  the  east  end  of  yonder  dall 
A  greene  way  finde  thou  shall ; 
In  that  way  shalt  thou  find  and  see 
The  foot-steps  of  thy  mother  and  me 
The  grass  is  fallow  [yellow]  on  the  green, 
And  ever  since  then  has  it  been, 
Where  we  came  wending  as  unwise 
When  we  were  put  fro  paradise." 

"  Inquire  of  the  angel  who  guards  the  gate"  continued 
Adam,  "  whether  I  may  have  aught  of  the  oil  of  mercy 
which  was  promised  me  when  I  left  paradise."  Seth 
forthwith  departing  traced  the  withered  foot-prints  of 
his  parents  back  to  the  bounds  of  Eden.  All  gloppend 
(dazzled)  with  the  mickle  light  of  the  garden,  he  told  his 
errand  to  the  gate-ward.  "  Go,  then,  thrust  thy  head  in, 
but  keep  thy  body  without,  and  take  heed  to  what  thou 
shalt  see,"  replied  that  angel. 

When  Seth  a  while  had  looked  in 
He  saw  so  mickle  wealth  and  win: 
In  earth  there  is  no  tongue  may  tell 
Of  flowers,  of  fruit,  of  sweete  smell, 
Of  joy  and  bliss,  so  many  thing. 

Amid  the  land,  moreover,  he  saw  a  spring,  wherefrom 
four  rivers  ran.  Also  he  beheld  a  great  tree  with  many 
branches,  but  bare  of  bark,  no  leaf  thereon  nor  less  nor 
more.  "  This  tree  is  dry  for  Adam's  sin,"  thought  Seth, 
and  turning  he  reported  to  the  angel  what  had  been 
revealed  to  him.  "  Look  once  more,"  the  angel  said. 
And  he  looked  and  saw  an  adder  all  about  the  tree. 
Yet  a  third  time  the  angel  bade  him  behold :  and  lo,  the 
tree  reached  even  unto  heaven,  and  a  new-born  babe  lay 
crying  in  the  top.  Then  was  Seth  afraid ;  but  when  to 
the  root  he  cast  his  eye, 


THE   HOLY   ROOD-TREE  249 

Him  thought  it  reached  fro  earth  to  hell 
Where,  under,  he  saw  his  brother  Abel. 

"  The  Child  is  Christ,"  said  the  Cherub,  then  with 
cheer  so  mild,  "  he  weeps  now  for  thy  father's  sin,  but 
in  the  fulness  of  time  he  shall  cleanse  it :  and  that  cleans- 
ing of  sin  — 

This  is  the  oil  that  was  hight  him 
To  him  and  to  his  progeny." 

"  Go  tell  thy  father,  that  in  three  days  he  shall  die.  But 
take  with  thee  these  three  pips  that  here  I  hold  of  the 
tree  whose  fruit  thy  father  ate,  and  when  he  dies 

Do  them  under  his  tongue  root : 
To  many  a  man  they  shall  be  boot. 
They  shall  be  cedar,  cypress  and  pine, 
To  many  a  man  be  medicine." 

Now  these  trees  betoken  the  Trinity :  the  cedar  for  its 
height,  God  the  Father ;  the  cypress  for  its  sweet  savour, 
God  the  Son  ;  the  pine  for  its  gifts  of  fruit,  God  the  Holy 
Ghost.  And  when  Adam  heard  the  tidings  of  Seth,  that 
in  three  days  he  should  die,  and  that  in  five  thousand,  two 
hundred  and  twenty  years  the  oil  of  mercy  should  be  sent 
(when  Christ  himself  should  suffer  death  for  the  sin  of 
man)  Adam  laughed  for  joy,  though  never  ere  had  our 
first  father  laughed ;  and  he  thanked  God. 

THE  THREE  KERNELS  AND  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 
CROSS-WOOD 

And  on  the  third  morn  he  died  and  was  buried  of  Seth 
in  the  Vale  of  Hebron.  Under  his  tongue,  according  to 
the  cherub's  words,  the  kernels  were  laid.  And  therefrom 
sprang  three  shoots ;  cedar,  cypress,  and  pine,  an  ell  in 
height ;  they  waxed  no  more,  through  the  days  of  Noah 


250       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

and  Abraham  even  till  the  day  that  Moses  gave  the  law. 
And  Adam's  soul  descended  into  hell.  And  all  that  died 
from  that  time  on  until  the  death  of  Christ,  no  matter 
how  holy  they  were,  descended  to  their  first  father  —  till 
the  hour  that  Christ  harrowed  hell.  All  save  Enoch  and 
Elias.  As  to  Enoch,  the  seventh  from  Adam,  he  was 
withouten  peer.  He  walked  with  God ;  and  was  the 
first  to  find  letters,  and  he  wrote  some  books  with  his 
hand: 

To  Paradise  quick  was  he  ta'en 

And  there  he  lives  in  flesh  and  bane. 

He  shall  come  forth  before  Doomsday 

To  fight  all  for  the  Christian  lay ; 

With  Antichrist  then  shall  he  fight 

For  to  wary  [defend]  the  Christian's  right, — 

He  and  his  fellow  Helia. 

Antichrist  shall  slay  them  twa 

But  with  their  up-rise  fro  death  to  life. 

Then  shall  they  fell  that  false  strife. 

Now  after  three  thousand  years  and  more,  when  Moses 
had  led  the  Israelites  out  of  Egypt  across  the  Red  Sea,  he 
came  to  the  Vale  of  Hebron  and  there  encamped.  And 
the  people  died  of  thirst.  "  What  shall  we  drink, 
Moses  ? "  quoth  they.  And  Moses  slept  that  night  in 
the  forest  and  in  the  morn,  lo,  a  "  ferly  sight,"  three  wands 
stood  growing  by  his  head,  a  cypress,  a  cedar,  and  a  pine. 
And  he  looked  on  them  with  wonder,  and  knew  that  they 
betokened  the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity.  And  he  drew 
them  up  without  scathe  or  break,  and  ever  bore  them  with 
him.  Then  the  people  of  Israel  found  water,  but  it  was 
bitter ;  and  the  wands  made  it  sweet. 

This  is  the  tree  of  which  it  is  said  in  the  Book  of  Exodus^ 
"  And  the  Lord  shewed  him  a  tree,  which  when  he  had 


THE   HOLY   ROOD-TREE  251 

cast  into  the  waters,  the  waters  were  made  sweet "  ;  but 
the  legend  of  the  Holy  Rood  sayeth  that  the  marvel  was 
of  the  wands  of  the  seeds  set  under  the  tongue  of  Adam 
when  Seth  buried  him.  And  from  the  rods  there  issued 
a  sweet  fragrance,  so  noble  a  smell  filling  the  whole  host 
that  the  Israelites  thought  that  they  had  at  last  reached 
the  Land  of  Promise.  And  Moses  wrapped  the  rods  in 
a  clean  cloth,  and  through  the  forty  years  of  the  wander- 
ing in  the  wilderness  they  were  ever  in  leaf  and  flower ; 
and  by  them  were  many  wonders  done  :  those  that  were 
bitten  by  snakes  were  healed,  and  those  that  were  spat 
upon  by  venomous  toads.  And  it  was  with  these  rods 
that  Moses  smote  the  rock  in  Horeb,  and  there  burst 
out  water  like  a  brook  that  the  people  might  drink. 
Then,  when  his  end  drew  nigh,  Moses  planted  the  rods 
again  beside  a  stream  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Tabor. 

A  thousand  years  went  by ;  and  David  was  King  in 
Israel,  and  lay  one  night  asleep,  when  there  appeared  to 
him  an  angel  clear,  God's  own  messenger,  and  told  him 
to  cross  the  Jordan  to  Mount  Tabor,  where  he  should 
find  the  rods  that  Moses  had  planted. 

He  knew  them  at  the  firste  sight, 
For  they  were  three  all  of  a  height, 

and  of  a  likeness  and  all  green,  and  still  each  of  his  own 
fruit  and  leaf.  He  drew  them  up  without  breaking,  and 
the  people  saw  them  shine  with  light.  And  to  him 
hastening  home,  came  sick  men  and  were  blessed  with 
the  rods  and  healed,  and  Saracens  black  and  misshapen, 
their  mouths  in  their  breasts,  their  brows  hairy  to  their 
ears,  their  sight  high  in  the  forehead,  their  arms  with 
wrinkled  hide  set  to  the  elbows  in  the  sides  of  them, 
crum pie-kneed  and  broken-backed  and  downward-look- 


252       PLAYS   OF  OUR   FOREFATHERS 

ing.  They  kissed  the  wands  and  their  skins  became  as 
milk  and  all  their  shape  was  turned  anew.  On  his  ar- 
rival at  Jerusalem,  King  David  put  the  wands  in  a  dike 
and  set  men  to  watch  them  all  the  night.  But  God, 
that  all  has  for  to  keep,  made  the  wands  strike  root  so 
deep  and  join  into  one  trunk  so  mighty  that  on  the  mor- 
row none  might  move  them.  So  the  King  built  a  wall 
about  that  place,  and  circled  the  Tree  with  a  silver  ring  to 
know  its  measure,  and  each  year  for  thirty  years  there 
was  a  circle  set  about  the  trunk.  And  the  Tree  grew  apace, 
maintaining  above  the  silver  circles  its  triple  branches, 
cedar,  cypress,  and  pine.  Under  this  Tree  the  King  would 
pray  and  there  he  made  his  songs,  and  under  it  he  first  be- 
thought him  to  build  a  temple  to  God.  But  for  his  sins 
he  might  not  finish  it :  and  Solomon  ruling  in  his  stead 
set  it  forward  to  completion.  When  the  work  was  almost 
finished  the  workmen  found  that  a  master-beam  was 
wanting,  and  nought  would  suffice  but  that  they  should 
cut  down  the  Holy  Tree  which  now  had  grown  to  a 
mighty  stature.  So  King  Solomon  gave  orders  that  the 
Tree  be  felled ;  and  the  workmen  measured  off  a  beam 
of  it  thfrty-and-one  cubits,  but  when  they  had  hoisted  it 
into  place,  behold  it  was  a  cubit  too  long.  They  took 
off  the  cubit,  and  hoisted  it  into  place ;  when,  lo,  it  was  a 
cubit  too  short.  Thrice  they  varied  it;  to  no  avail,  the 
beam  would  not  come  to  the  square.  So  the  Holy  Tree 
with  David's  thirty  circles  of  silver  was  laid  in  the  temple. 
One  day  there  came  a  woman  named  Maximilla  to  wor- 
ship and  pray,  and  sat  down  unawares  upon  that  Tree, 
whereon  her  garments  caught  a-flame  and  burnt  like 
tow, — 

And  then  began  she  for  to  cry 
As  with  a  voice  of  prophecy, 


THE   HOLY   ROOD-TREE  253 

And  said,  upon  that  Tree  should  hing 
The  lord  of  Hell,  that  blisful  King: 
Jesus  Christ  of  maiden  born 
To  save  the  wretched  world  forlorn  ; 
And  that  the  Jews  should  hear  and  see 
That  should  the  Cross  make  of  that  Tree. 

Whereat  the  Jews,  angered  for  that  she  had  blasphemed 
against  the  only  God  they  knew,  dragged  her  forth  from 
the  temple  and  stoned  her  —  some  say,  beheaded  her: 

She  was  the  first  that  suffered  shame 
For  mentioning  of  Jesu's  name ; 

and  an  angel  descended  from  heaven  and  bore  away  her 
soul  before  the  sight  of  men,  and  called  her  "  Christian." 
Then  the  Jews  threw  the  Tree  into  a  pool ;  but  angels 
stirred  the  water  and  it  healed  the  sick  who  were  placed 
in  it.  So  the  Jews  drew  it  out  and  laid  it  across  the 
brook  Siloam  —  some  say  Cedron  —  as  a  bridge.  There 
it  abode  until  the  coming  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba  to  hear 
the  wisdom  of  Solomon.  And  it  was  hoped  that  the  feet 
of  sinful  men  might  wear  away  the  virtue  from  that  Tree. 
But  this  Queen  when  she  reached  the  bridge,  bowed 
down  and  honoured  it,  and  lifted  her  skirt,  and  barefoot 
waded  the  water  rather  than  do  dishonour  to  the  Tree ; 
and  of  that  Tree  she  told  many  prophecies. 

And,  namely,  also  of  Doomsday  — 

When  all  this  world  shall  wind  away. 

This  ilke  Tree  that  I  of  say, 

There  it  lay  full  many  a  day 

Yet  shall  it  be  in  the  temple  boun  (ready) 

At  the  time  of  Christ  his  passion. 

When  Christ  a  thousand  years  later,  betrayed  by  Judas, 
was  about  to  suffer  death,  the  Jews  would  have  none  but 
the  King's  Tree  whereon  to  hang  him.  They  went, 


254      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

therefore,  to  the  temple  and  hewed  it  into  the  shape  of 
the  Cross ;  but  not  a  foot  could  they  raise  it  or  stir  it 
from  its  place.  But  when  Jesus  was  brought,  he  louted 
down  and  kissed  it,  and  without  help  of  man  he  laid  it 
upon  his  back.  This  was  the  Holy  Rood  on  which  he 
died.  And  after  he  had  given  up  the  ghost,  that  Rood 
blossomed  from  the  hour  of  noon  even  unto  the  going 
down  of  the  sun. 

Of  the  traitor  Judas,  it  is  written  that  when  he  had 
done  that  sin,  he  went  to  his  mother  with  the  pieces  that 
he  had  taken,  and  told  her  thereof.  Now  Judas  was 
Jesus'  almoner,  he  took  in  all  the  silver  of  the  company 
but  seldom  gave  account  of  it.  "  Son,  hast  thou  sold  thy 
master  ?  "  said  his  mother,  then.  "  Now  shalt  thou  suffer 
punishment,  for  I  wot  the  Jews  will  slay  him,  but  he 
shall  rise  again  from  his  grave."  "  Rise  up,  mother,  eft," 
he  said,  "  nay,  certes,  it  shall  not  be  so.  He  shall  no 
more  rise  than  shall  this  cock  that  was  plucked  and 
scalded,  yesternight."  No  sooner  had  he  said  that  word 
than  the  cock  arose  and  flew,  feathered  fairer  than  before, 
and  crowed  full  shrill,  through  God  the  Lord,  his  might. 
And  on  the  roof  of  the  house  he  settled,  rejoicing  and 
singing  as  if  he  prophesied  the  day  of  the  resurrection  of 
Christ.  This  is  the  cock,  some  say,  that  the  same  night, 
thrice  crowing,  convicted  Peter  of  sin,  who  had  denied 
his  Lord.  But  Judas,  the  accursed,  terrified  by  that  omen 
of  the  risen  cock,  went  to  the  place  where  Jesus  suffered, 
and  seeing  that  he  was  already  condemned  to  death,  threw 
down  the  thirty  pieces  in  the  temple,  whence  they  had 
aforetime  been  purloined  by  the  Jews,  and  went  out  and 
hanged  himself.  Of  these  thirty  silverlings,  it  is  said 
by  some  that  they  were  the  circlets  which  David  and 
Solomon  had  put  about  the  trunk  of  the  Holy  Rood- 


THE   HOLY   ROOD-TREE  255 

Tree ;  and  that  they  were  stolen  from  the  care  of  the  priest- 
ess of  the  sanctuary,  Sara  the  daughter  of  Caiaphas,  by 
that  same  Demas,  or  Dysmas,  the  robber  who  was  crucified 
therefor  by  the  side  of  Jesus,  and  asked  mercy  of  him. 

The  Holy  Cross  Joseph  of  Arimathea  would  fain  have 
preserved,  after  he  had  buried  the  body  of  Christ,  but 
the  Jews,  fearful  of  its  magic  power,  would  not  permit 
him  to  remove  it.  They  took  it  away  themselves,  to- 
gether with  the  crosses  on  which  had  been  crucified  the 
two  robbers  beside  him,  —  their  names  were  Dysmas,  who 
was  saved,  and  Gestas,  the  wicked  one,  —  and  the  crosses 
were  buried  where  none  might  find  them,  or,  finding,  know 
them  apart. 

Some  three  hundred  and  thirty  years  after,  when  the 
Emperor  Constantine  had  received  baptism,  there  ap- 
peared to  him  in  the  night,  before  a  great  battle,  a  vision 
of  the  Cross  on  which  was  written,  "  In  this  sign  thou 
shalt  conquer."  He  caused  to  be  made  a  cross  like  unto 
it,  and  borne  before  him  into  battle,  and  thus  he  won  the 
victory.  Then  he  sent  word  of  the  omen  to  his  mother 
Helena.  And  it  happened  that,  at  that  time,  her  gold- 
smith, a  Christian,  had  borrowed  money  from  a  certain 
Jew,  who  was  a  money-lender.  According  to  the  agree- 
ment the  goldsmith  was  to  pay  the  weight  of  the  money 
in  his  own  flesh  in  case  he  could  not  make  good  the 
amount  of  the  loan.  The  Christian  could  not  find  money 
wherewith  to  repay,  and  the  Jew  was  demanding  the  pen- 
alty ;  and  in  this  case  things  were  when  the  messengers  of 
Constantine  arrived.  The  contest  being  referred  to  them, 
they  decided  that  the  Jew  might  take  the  money's  weight 
in  flesh,  provided  he  shed  no  blood  in  doing  so.  He 
thereupon  offered  to  show  Helena,  if  only  she  would 
remit  the  penalty,  where  Christ's  Cross  was  buried.  She 


256       PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

granted  his  request.  The  place  being  revealed,  the 
crosses  were  dug  up  and  borne  to  the  city,  and  there 
the  raising  of  a  dead  man  to  life  by  the  true  Cross  dis- 
covered to  Helena  which  it  was.  In  the  temple  was 
found  the  remainder  of  the  beam  from  which  the  Cross 
had  been  made,  and  it  sent  forth  still  a  sweet  odour  through 
the  temple.  Of  the  four  parts  of  the  Cross  Helena  sent 
one  to  Rome,  one  to  Alexandria,  one  to  Constantinople, 
and  the  last  remained  in  the  temple.  Of  the  nails  she 
made  a  work  for  the  bridle  of  Constantine,  which  blinded 
with  its  brilliance  the  enemy  when  he  rode  forth  to  war. 
One  of  the  nails  is  now  at  St.  Denis,  —  the  author  of  this 
story  has  seen  and  kissed  it.  Others  tell  the  story  of 
the  invention  of  the  Cross  otherwise,  saying  that  it  was  a 
man  named  Judas  who  found  the  Cross,  and  that  he  was 
afterward  made  bishop  and  called  Quiriacus,  and  that 
when  he  had  found  it  the  devil  threatened  him  with 
vengeance.1 

THE   SOURCES   OF   THE   STORIES 

The  history  of  the  Oil  of  Mercy  and  the  Rood-Tree  I 
have  taken,  as  I  have  said,  from  various  sources  accord- 
ing as  they  seemed  best  to  furnish  the  incidents  used  by 
the  authors  of  the  dramatic  spectacles  based  upon  the 
tradition.  Of  these  sources  the  principal  is  the  Cursor 
Mundi.  In  that  poem  the  passages  descriptive  of  Seth's 
mission  to  Paradise,  and  of  the  martyrdom  of  Maximilla- 
Sibylla,  follow  a  Latin  legend  written  maybe  between 
1190  and  1210,  while  the  rest  of  the  story  has  been 
shown  by  Professor  Napier  of  Oxford  to  be  almost  a 

1  This  paragraph  is  based  upon  Napier's  account  of  Cursor  Mundi,  and 
an  Old  French  Poem,  in  several  respects  its  original.  E.  E.  T.  S.,  1 894; 
Orig.  Scr.  103.  The  Holy  Rood-Tree. 


THE   HOLY   ROOD-TREE  257 

literal  translation  of  an  Old  French  Poem  on  the  history 
of  the  Cross-Wood.  The  manuscript  of  the  French 
poem  is  of  the  fourteenth  century,  but  the  poem  must 
have  been  composed  at  any  rate  by  the  middle  of  the 
thirteenth.  Other  authorities  used  in  my  sketch  are  two 
narratives  of  the  fourteenth  century,  both  derived  in  part 
from  the  Latin  Legend.  Of  these  the  first,  namely  The 
Story  of  the  Holy  Rood *  makes  direct  use  of  the  sixth-cen- 
tury Vita  Adae  et  Evae  as  well ;  and  the  second,  How  the 
Holy  Cros  was  T-founde  2  borrows  also  from  the  Legenda 
A  urea  ofVoragine.  The  former  of  these  narratives  gives 
a  slightly  different  version  of  the  Seth-mission  from  that 
of  the  Latin  Legend.  I  have  in  the  last  place  made  use 
of  an  Anglo-Saxon  version  of  The  Holy  Rood-Tree  of 
which  Professor  Napier  assigns  the  manuscript  to  1150- 
1175.  He  thinks  that  this  Holy  Rood-Tree  and  the  Old 
French  Poem  while  written  independently  of  each  other 
have  a  common  source  in  an  original  of  about  the  year 
1000.  This  original  is,  however,  distinct  from  the  Latin 
Legend  of  the  Cross- Wood  which  contains  the  Seth  story 
omitted  by  the  group  of  the  Holy  Rood-Tree,  and  omits 
the  Invention  of  the  Cross  supplied  by  that  group.  Both 
the  Seth  story  and  the  story  of  Queen  Helena  are  in- 
cluded in  Voragine's  Legenda  Aurea  ;  but  they  are  not  to 
be  found  in  Peter  Comestor,  to  whom  the  Golden  Legend 
owes  much  in  other  respects. 

The  story  of  the  inception  of  the  Holy  Rood-Tree 
in  the  three  kernels  given  by  the  Cherub  of  Paradise  to 
Seth  cannot  be  traced  to  sources  earlier  than  the  Latin 
Legend  of  the  twelfth  century  and  that  common  original 

1  Legends  of  the  Holy  Rood:  Harl.  MS.  4196  ;  Publ.  R.  Morris,  E.  E. 
T.  S.,  1871  ;  Orig.  Ser.  42.     And  Napier,  op.  fit. 

2  Morris,  Legends,  etc.,  p.  18,  from  Harl.  MS.  2277,  etc. 

17 


258       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Holy  Rood-Tree  and  the  Old 
French  Poem  which  Professor  Napier  conjectures  to  have 
existed  about  1000  A.  D.  The  motif  of  the  grains  or 
seeds  may  possibly  have  been  suggested  by  a  passage 
in  the  sixth-century  Vita  Adae  et  Evae>  to  the  effect  that 
Seth  and  Eve,  failing  to  obtain  from  the  archangel 
Michael  the  oil  of  the  Tree  of  Mercy  with  which  to 
anoint  the  dying  Adam,  took  with  them  perfumes  in- 
stead :  nard  and  crocus  and  calamus  and  cinnamon.  One 
of  the  manuscripts  of  this  text  has  indeed  an  additional 
clause  at  this  point,  according  to  which  the  angel  gave 
Seth  a  branch  with  three  leaves  from  the  Tree  of  Paradise, 
but  that  Seth  dropped  it  into  the  river  Jordan  as  he  was 
crossing  over.1  The  earliest  extant  account  of  the 
mission  of  Seth  and  the  death  of  Adam  is  the  Apocalypse 
concerning  Adam  revealed  to  Moses  by  the  archangel 
Michael.  This  was  written  about  the  time  of  Christ,  or 
at  any  rate  before  the  fifth  century  after  Christ.  It  is 
in  part  the  original  of  the  Vita.  In  this  apocalypse 
we  find  Seth  and  Eve  vainly  asking  for  the  oil  and 
receiving  neither  the  three -leafed  branch  nor  the 
seeds  of  the  spices.  It  is  Adam  himself  who  takes 
crocus,  nard,  calamus,  cinnamon,  and  other  seeds  with 
him  upon  his  expulsion  from  Paradise. 

According  to  Professor  Meyer,  the  original  Book 
of  Adam  —  the  source  both  of  the  Greek  apocalypse 
and  of  the  somewhat  parallel  Latin  Vita  —  was  in  exist- 
ence before  the  birth  of  Christ.  Naturally  neither  that 
original  nor  the  apocalypse  made  any  prophecy  con- 
cerning the  coming  of  Christ  with  the  Oil  of  Mercy. 
That  conception  appears  first  in  the  Latin  Gospel  of  Nico- 

1  Meyer,  Vita  Adae  et  Evae,  p.  236  ;  in  Abb.  d.  k.  Bayer  is  cben 
Akademie  d.  Wissenscbaften,  Bd.  XIV,  1878. 


THE    HOLY    ROOD-TREE  259 

y  chapter  nineteen  (of  the  fourth  or  fifth  century), 
and  second  in  the  Latin  Vita  Adae  et  Evae  (of  the  century 
after),  where  the  exact  words  of  the  Latin  Nicodemus  are 
interpolated  in  a  translation  of  the  utterly  non-Christian 
apocalypse.1  Eliminating,  however,  the  Christian  inter- 
pretation of  the  symbol,  we  find  the  elements  of  the 
mission  of  Seth  in  the  Greek  Apocalypse  of  Moses. 
Into  the  more  remote  inspiration  of  the  story  we  shall 
presently  make  further  inquiry. 

The  legend  of  Judas  was  the  subject  of  a  lost  episode 
of  the  York  cycle,  and  it  remains  in  the  fragmentary 
Suspensio  Judae  of  Wakefield.  The  narrative  as  given 
above  is  taken  from  the  Cursor,  11.  15962-16016,  and 
from  its  source,  the  Latin  Judas  Story,  printed  from  a 
manuscript  of  the  twelfth  century  by  Professor  Napier.2 
To  these  accounts  I  have  added,  from  the  apocryphal 
story  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  the  passage  connecting 
the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  with  Dysmas  (Sanctus  Bonus 
Latro).  Their  identification  with  the  circlets  of  the 
Rood-Tree  comes  from  the  Cambridge  Latin  version 
of  the  Rood-Tree  story,  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  story, 
both  of  the  twelfth  century.3 

1  The  passage  beginning,  "  When  I,  Seth,  was  praying  at  the  Gates 
of  Paradise,"  and  ending,  "Christ  shall  lead  our  father  Adam  into 
Paradise  to  the  tree  of  Mercy." 

3  MS.  Jesus  Coll.  Oxford,  with  I4th  cent,  variations.  Holy  Rood-  Tree, 
p.  68. 

*  Napier,  Holy  Rood-Tret,  pp.  25,  49. 


26o       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  OIL  OF  MERCY  AND  THE  HARROWING 
OF  HELL 

AFTER  the  legend  of  the  Oil  of  Mercy  enters  the  realm 
of  Christian  story  it  speedily  becomes  interwoven  with 
other  legends,  notably  those  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  the 
Harrowing  of  Hell,  and  the  Coming  of  Antichrist.  These 
constitute  the  chief  material  of  the  Latin  Gospel  of 
Nicodemus,  from  which,  since  it  is  the  most  evident 
of  the  sources  of  mediaeval  poems  and  plays  on  these 
subjects,  I  select  the  following.1 

After  Joseph  and  Nicodemus  had  performed  the  obse- 
quies for  Jesus  the  Jews  were  greatly  moved  against 
them,  and  they  took  Joseph  (some  say,  also  Nicodemus) 
and  shut  him  in  a  house  where  was  no  window,  and  set 
keepers  at  the  doors,  and  sealed  up  the  door  where 
Joseph  was  shut  in.  And  after  the  Sabbath  day  they 
took  counsel  by  what  death  they  should  put  Joseph 
to  death,  and  they  commanded  him  to  be  brought  with 
much  insult.  But  when  the  door  of  Joseph's  prison  was 
opened  he  was  not  found.  And  still  the  seals  were 
sealed,  and  the  high  priest  Caiaphas  had  the  keys. 
Therefore  the  Jews  were  astonished,  and  dared  no  more 
lay  hand  on  those  who  had  spoken  for  Jesus.  On  this 
there  came  word  that  the  body  of  Jesus  also  was  miss- 
ing; that  he  had  risen  from  the  tomb,  and  had  been 

1  Latin  Evangelium  Nicodemi,  XII-XVI. 


THE  HARROWING   OF   HELL         261 

seen  talking  with  his  disciples,  and  saying  to  them,  "  Go 
into  all  the  world  and  preach  the  Gospel."  Therefore,  at 
the  bidding  of  Nicodemus  the  Council  of  the  Jews  sent 
out  messengers  to  find  Jesus  if,  peradventure,  alive  or  in 
death  he  had  been  taken  up  into  the  mountains.  And 
they  came  not  on  him  ;  but  on  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
wandering  at  large  they  came,  and  yet  no  man  dared  lay 
hold  upon  him.  But  being  entreated  by  the  Council, 
Joseph  saddled  his  ass  and  returned  to  the  holy  city ; 
and  to  the  Jews  inquiring  of  his  escape  he  made  answer 
in  these  words :  "  On  the  day  of  preparation,  about  the 
tenth  hour,  ye  shut  me  in,  and  I  remained  there  the 
whole  of  the  Sabbath.  And  when  midnight  came,  while 
I  stood  and  prayed,  the  house  wherein  ye  shut  me  was 
suspended  by  the  four  corners,  and  there  was  a  flashing 
of  light  in  mine  eyes,  and  I  fell  trembling  upon  the 
ground.  Then  one  lifted  me  up  from  the  place  where 
I  had  fallen,  and  poured  abundance  of  water  upon  me 
from  my  head  to  my  feet,  and  put  about  my  nostrils  the 
fragrance  of  wonderful  ointment,  and  rubbed  my  face 
with  the  water,  as  if  washing  me,  and  said  to  me, f  Joseph, 
fear  not,  but  open  thine  eyes,  and  see  who  it  is  that 
speaketh  to  thee.'  And  looking  I  saw  Jesus ;  and  being 
afraid  I  asked  him,  '  Art  thou  Elijah  ? '  And  he  said,  c  I 
am  not  Elijah  ;  I  am  the  Jesus  whose  body  thou  didst  lay 
in  thine  own  new  sepulchre.'  And  he  showed  me  the 
place  where  I  had  laid  him,  and  he  put  me  in  mine  own 
house,  and  kissed  me  and  said,  c  For  forty  days  go  not 
from  thine  house;  for,  behold,  I  go  into  Galilee  to  my 
brethren.' " 

And  soon  after  that  the  rulers  heard  how  Jesus  had 
been  taken  up  into  heaven  before  the  eyes  of  his  disciples, 
and  they  wondered  thereat ;  but  Joseph  arose  and  said  to 


262       PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Annas  and  Caiaphas  : *  "It  is  more  to  be  wondered  at 
that  he  arose  not  alone  from  the  dead,  but  that  he  hath 
raised  alive  from  their  tombs  many  other  dead  men,  and 
they  have  been  seen  by  many  in  Jerusalem.  Lo,  the  same 
Simeon,  the  great  priest  who  in  the  temple  held  Jesus  in 
his  hands,  had  two  sons  and  we  were  present  at  their 
burial.  Behold,  even  now  they  are  in  the  City  of  Arima- 
thea  alive,  and  together  in  prayer.  But  they  are  speech- 
less. Let  us  adjure  them,  that  they  tell  us  of  the 
mystery  of  their  resurrection." 

And  the  sons  of  Simeon  being  found,  the  priests 
swore  them  by  the  law  of  God,  and  by  Adonai  himself, 
saying,  "  If  ye  believe  that  it  is  Jesus  who  raised  you 
from  the  dead,  tell  us  how  ye  rose  from  the  dead." 
Then  Carinus  and  Leucias,  the  sons  of  Simeon  (accord- 
ing unto  some  the  names  of  them  were  Carius  and  Len- 
thius),  signed  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  their  tongues, 
and  their  tongues  were  loosened,  and  they  said,  "  Give 
us  wherewith  to  write  and  we  will  set  down  each  of  us, 
separately,  what  we  have  seen."  Now  of  what  they 
wrote  this  is  a  part;  and  it  was  found  that  each  had 
written  the  same  thing,  to  wit : 

"  When  we  had  been  gathered  unto  our  fathers  in  the 
pit  of  hell,  in  the  blackness  of  darkness,  on  a  sudden 
there  appeared  the  colour  of  the  sun  like  gold,  and  a 
kingly  light  of  purple  enlightening  the  place.  And 
straightway  Adam,  the  father  of  all  mankind,  with  all 
the  patriarchs  and  prophets  rejoiced,  and  said,  c  That 
light  is  the  author  of  light  eternal  which  hath  promised 
to  send  us  the  co-eternal  light.'  Then  Isaiah  bare 
witness  to  the  light,  and  our  father  Simeon,  and  John 
the  fore-runner  of  the  Highest,  saying,  'This  is  the  day- 
spring  itself;  the  Son  of  God  coming  from  on  high  is 

1  Evangtlium  Nicodemi,  XVII-XXVIII  (Dcjceniuj  ad  infer os). 


s 

3 
a 
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it 
it 

5  S 

£"    ~t 
oo     O 

f?  2. 


THE   HARROWING   OF   HELL        263 

about  to  visit  us  who  sit  in  darkness  and  the  shadow  of 
death.' 

"And  when  Adam  the  first-formed,  heard  these 
things,  he  cried  to  his  son  Seth,  and  said,  *  Declare 
unto  thy  sons,  the  patriarchs  and  prophets,  all  those 
things  that  thou  didst  hear  from  Michael  the  archangel, 
when  I  sent  thee  to  the  gates  of  Paradise  to  pray  God  to 
give  thee  of  the  oil  of  the  tree  of  mercy,  to  anoint  my 
body  when  I  was  sick.'  Then  Seth  drew  nigh  to  the 
holy  patriarchs  and  prophets  and  said,  'When  I,  Seth, 
was  praying  to  the  Lord  at  the  gates  of  Paradise,  behold 
Michael,  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  appeared  unto  me, 
saying,  "  I  am  sent  to  thee  from  the  Lord ;  I  am 
appointed  to  the  care  of  the  bodies  of  men  upon  the 
earth.  I  say  unto  thee,  Seth,  labour  not  with  God  in 
tears,  nor  entreat  him  for  the  oil  of  the  tree  of  mercy 
wherewith  to  anoint  thy  father  Adam  for  the  pain  of  his 
body  ;  for  thou  canst  in  no  wise  receive  of  it  save  in  the 
fulness  of  days  and  times,  namely,  till  five  thousand  and 
five  hundred  years  be  past.  Then  shall  come  upon 
earth  the  most  merciful  Son  of  God  to  raise  the  body  of 
Adam  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead ;  and  at  his  coming  he 
shall  be  baptised  in  Jordan.  Then  with  the  oil  of  his 
mercy  shall  he  anoint  all  who  believe  in  him  ;  and  that  oil 
of  mercy  shall  be  for  all  generations  of  those  who  are  born 
of  water  and  the  Holy  Spirit  unto  life  eternal.  Then 
coming  down  within  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  the  well- 
beloved  Son  of  God,  Christ  Jesus,  shall  lead  out  our 
father  Adam  into  Paradise  to  the  tree  of  mercy."  When 
they  heard  these  things  from  Seth,  all  the  patriarchs  and 
prophets  rejoiced  with  great  joy. 

"  Then  Satan,  the  prince  of  death,  and  Hades  were 
seized  with  great  fear,  because  Christ  was  coming  to  set 
free  those  who  were  dead.  And  while  they  talked  in 
their  terror,  lo,  a  sound  as  of  thunder,  and  a  crying  of 
spirits,  saying,  '  Lift  up  your  gates,  ye  princes,  and  be 
ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors ;  and  the  King  of  Glory 
shall  come  in.'  And  the  Lord  Christ  brake  down  the 


264       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

gates  that  Death  and  Hades  had  barred  against  him  ; 
and  he  trampled  upon  Death,  and  seized  Satan,  the 
prince,  and  delivered  him  to  the  power  of  Hades,  and 
took  our  father  Adam  with  him  into  glory.  And  so 
Christ  harrowed  hell ;  and  the  prophets,  David  and 
Habakkuk  and  Isaiah  and  Micah,  rejoiced  and  bare 
witness  of  the  Christ  whom  they  had  prophesied.  Then 
the  Lord  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  Adam,  and 
took  him  by  the  right  hand,  and  He  led  him  forth  from 
the  underworld ;  and  all  the  saints  followed  him.  And 
the  Lord,  holding  Adam  by  the  hand,  gave  him  over  to 
Michael  the  archangel.  And  all  the  saints  followed 
Michael  the  archangel,  and  he  led  them  into  Paradise 
filled  with  mercy  and  glory.  And  there  met  them  two 
men,  most  ancient  of  days;  and  the  saints  asked  them, 
*  Who  are  ye  that  have  not  been  dead  with  us  in  the 
underworld,  and  yet  have  been  stationed  in  Paradise  in 
the  living  body  ? '  One  of  them  answered,  and  said 
unto  them,  *  I  am  Enoch  who  was  translated  hither  by 
the  word  of  the  Lord  ;  and  he  that  is  with  me  is  Elijah, 
the  Tishbite,  who  was  taken  up  in  a  fiery  chariot.  Here 
we  have  been  hitherto,  nor  have  we  tasted  death,  but  are 
reserved  to  the  coming  of  Antichrist  with  whom  we  shall 
contend  in  the  power  of  divine  signs  and  miracles ;  and 
we  shall  be  slain  by  him  at  Jerusalem,  but  after  three 
days  and  a  half  we  shall  again  be  received  alive  into 
the  clouds.' 

"  And  while  these  things  were  talked  of  with  Enoch 
and  Elijah,  behold  there  came  up  another,  a  very 
wretched  man,  bearing  on  his  shoulders  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  And  when  they  saw  him,  the  saints  said  unto 
him, '  Who  are  thou,  for  thy  countenance  is  like  unto  that 
of  a  robber,  and  why  bearest  thou  the  sign  of  the  cross 
upon  thy  shoulders  ? '  And  he  answered  them  that  he 
was  indeed  a  robber,  but  that  crucified  upon  the  cross 
beside  the  Christ  he  had  believed  in  him  ;  and  the  Lord 
had  received  his  prayer  and  said,  c  This  day  thou  shalt  be 
with  me  in  Paradise.'  And  he  had  given  him  the  sign  of  the 


THE   HARROWING   OF   HELL        265 

cross  that  the  angel  guarding  the  gate  of  Paradise  might 
suffer  him  to  enter  and  abide  the  coming  of  Christ  with 
Adam  and  all  his  sons  that  were  holy  and  just." 

These  are  the  divine  and  sacred  mysteries  which 
Carius  and  Lenthius  saw. 

Thus  became  that  oil  in  place 
That  God  had  Adam  hight  of  grace, — 
Long  might  Adam  think  the  space 
Of  exile  from  that  lordes  face. 

Of  the  episodes  involved  in  these  legends,  as  well  as  the 
motives,  practically  all  were  dramatised  by  the  Cornish 
miracles,  and  many  by  the  French  Mystere  de  la  Nativite. 
In  the  York  play  of  Christ  led  up  to  Calvary,  the  third 
soldier  says : 

I  have  been  gar  make 
This  Cross,  as  ye  may  see, 
Of  that  lay  over  the  lake  — 
Men  called  it  the  kingis  tree. 

In  the  lost  Beverley  cycle  there  was  a  pageant  of  Adam 
and  Seth,  which  the  ."  Shermen  "  played ;  in  the  Wake- 
field  plays  the  Oil  of  Mercy  is  mentioned  by  Noah  first 
and  then  by  Abraham.  In  the  Chester  and  Cornwall 
plays  and  in  the  French  mystery  of  the  Resurrection 
especial  emphasis  is  laid  upon  that  part  of  the  story. 
The  Harrowing  of  Hell  is  a  spectacular  feature  of  all 
the  cycles. 

BIBLICAL,  APOCALYPTIC,  AND  OTHER  SOURCES 

The  sixth-century  Life  of  Adam  and  Eve,  the  Gospel 
of  Nicodemus,  and  the  still  earlier  Apocalypse  of  Moses 
are  after  all  but  channels  through  which  some  of  these 


266       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

conceptions  have  flowed.  The  sources  of  inspiration 
are  further  back.  The  extreme  antiquity  of  the  vision  of 
Paradise  and  the  promise  of  mercy  illustrates  both  the 
cosmopolitan  quality  of  the  mediaeval  literary  conscious- 
ness and  the  vitality  of  religious  symbol  and  explana- 
tory myth.  The  tree  of  life,  like  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  is 
a  theme  in  Babylonian  poetry  of  times  long  antecedent  to 
the  writing  of  the  early  Hebrew  scriptures.1  Originally 
there  was  but  one  tree  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  that  of 
youth ;  and  there  was  a  water  of  life.  The  tree  of  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil  was  added  by  some  Hebrew 
editor,  probably  as  an  explanation  of  the  tree  of  perpetual 
youth.  The  art  of  living  smoothly  depends  upon  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  in  fact  upon  the  knowledge 
of  all  things.  "This  is  the  life  eternal  to  know  thee, 
the  only  true  God." 

The  best  known  biblical  bases  for  the  description  of 
Eden  and  the  glories  thereof  are,  of  course,  the  chapters 
in  GenestSy  and  the  references  in  Ezekiel,  —  Eden,  the 
garden  of  God,  its  precious  stones,  its  cherub,  its  holy 
mountain,  its  trees  of  cedar  and  fir  and  chestnut.2  The 
latter  references,  however,  are  only  a  metaphorical  adapta- 
tion of  an  ancient  North  Arabian  myth  to  certain  kings 
of  Tyre  and  Egypt  who  lived  long  after  the  time  of  the 
Ezekiel  of  Jehoiachin's  captivity,  597  B.  c.  Both  tree  of 
life  and  tree  of  wisdom  are  expressly  mentioned  in  the 
Ethiopic  Book  of  Enoch,  —  the  portion  written  before 
161  B.  c. ;  also  the  fragrance  of  the  former  and  the  fruit 
reserved  for  the  elect,  and  the  four  streams  that  flow  from 
its  root;  the  presence  of  Michael,  too,  though  explaining 
things  somewhat  differently,  —  all  as  in  the  legend  of 
what  Seth  saw  in  Paradise.  But  here  it  was  Enoch 

1  Encyc.  Bibl.  art.  Paradise.  *  Ezek.  xxviii,  xzxi. 


REMOTER   SOURCES  267 

who  saw.  In  the  capricious  favouritism  of  popular  myth- 
making  the  apocalyptic  adventures  of  the  superhuman 
Enoch  were  in  time  transferred  to  Seth,  and  those  of  Seth 
still  later  to  some  other  darling  of  the  race,  —  Moses,  or 
Elijah,  who  was  reported  to  have  "walked  with  God." 
The  description  of  the  earthly  paradise  in  the  Book  of 
Enoch  is  so  beautiful  and  at  the  same  time  so  admirably 
illustrative  of  the  transition  of  the  myth  toward  its  early 
Christian  form  that  I  quote  it  almost  in  full.1 

Enoch  sees  a  place  of  magnificent  mountains :  "  And 
the  seventh  mountain  was  between  these,  and  in  their 
elevation  they  all  resemble  the  seats  of  a  throne;  and  the 
throne  was  encircled  with  fragrant  trees.  And  amongst 
them  was  a  tree  such  as  I  had  never  yet  smelt :  nor  were 
others  like  it ;  it  had  a  fragrance  beyond  all  fragrance :  its 
leaves  and  blooms  and  wood  wither  not  for  ever ;  and  its 
fruit  is  beautiful,  and  it  resembles  the  dates  of  a  palm. .  .  . 
Then  answered  Michael,  one  of  the  holy  and  honoured 
angels  who  was  with  me,  and  was  in  charge  thereof: 
'  Enoch,  what  dost  thou  ask  as  touching  the  fragrance 
of  this  tree  and  what  dost  thou  seek  to  know  ? '  Then 
I,  Enoch,  answered  him  and  said :  c  I  should  like  to  know 
about  everything  but  especially  about  this  tree.'  And  he 
answered  me  and  said:  'This  high  mountain  which  thou 
hast  seen,  whose  summit  is  like  the  throne  of  the  Lord, 
is  His  throne,  where  the  Holy  and  Great  One,  the  Lord 
of  Glory,  the  Eternal  King  will  sit  when  he  shall  come 
down  to  visit  the  earth  with  goodness.  And  no  mortal  is 
permitted  to  touch  this  tree  of  delicious  fragrance  till  the 
great  day  of  judgment,  when  he  shall  avenge  and  bring 
everything  to  its  consummation  for  ever ;  this  tree,  I  say, 
will  then  be  given  to  the  righteous  and  humble.  By  its 

1  Eth.  Enoch,  xxiv,  3-xxvi. 


268       PLAYS   OF    OUR   FOREFATHERS 

fruit  life  will  be  given  to  the  elect  j1  it  will  be  transplanted 
to  the  north,  to  the  holy  place,  to  the  temple  of  the  Lord, 
the  Eternal  King.  Then  will  they  rejoice  with  joy  and 
be  glad :  they  will  enter  the  holy  habitation :  the  fra- 
grance thereof  will  be  in  their  limbs,  and  they  will  live  a 
long  life  on  earth,  such  as  thy  fathers  have  lived :  and  in 
their  days  no  sorrow  or  pain  or  trouble  or  calamity  will 
affect  them.'  a  Then  blessed  I  the  Lord  of  Glory,  .  .  . 
because  that  he  hath  prepared  such  recompense  for  the 
righteous,  and  hath  created  it  and  promised  it  to  them." 
This  passage  is  followed  by  a  description  of  the  four 
streams  that  flow  from  the  base  of  a  holy  mountain  in  the 
middle  of  the  earth.  Of  course  there  are  references  here 
to  actual  localities  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem,  but 
the  description  is  so  vividly  suggestive  of  the  garden  of 
Seth's  vision  in  the  thirteenth-century  Cursor  Mundi,  and 
the  Cornish  Origo  Mundi,  that  I  have  refrained  from 
italicising  particulars  only  for  fear  of  italicising  the  whole. 
In  a  later  chapter  we  read  of  Enoch3  that  he  beholds 
the  other  tree :  "  And  I  came  into  the  garden  of  righteous- 
ness and  saw  beyond  those  trees  many  large  trees  grow- 
ing there  .  .  .  and  the  tree  of  wisdom  which  imparts  great 
wisdom  to  those  who  eat  of  it.  And  it  is  like  the  Carob 
tree:  its  fruit  is  like  the  clusters  of  the  vine,  very  beauti- 
ful :  the  fragrance  of  the  tree  goes  forth  and  penetrates 
afar.  And  I  said:  'This  tree  is  beautiful,  and  how 

1  Hence  the  promise  to  Adam,  on  his  expulsion  from  Paradise,  of  the 
fruit   of    the  tree  of  life  on  the  day  of  his  resurrection.     Apoc.  Moses 
(A.  D.  1-400).     And  the  promise  of  Christ  in  Latin  Gospel  of  Nicode- 
mus,  xii. 

2  Hence,  the  like  passage  in  the  Apocalypse  of  Moses.    See  Meyer,  Vita 
Adae,  204. 

8   Eth.  Enoch,  xxxii. 


REMOTER   SOURCES  269 

beautiful  and  attractive  its  look ! '  And  the  holy  angel 
Rafael,  who  was  with  me,  answered  me  and  said :  '  This 
is  the  tree  of  wisdom  of  which  thy  old  father  and  aged 
mother,  who  were  before  thee  have  eaten  ;  and  they  learnt 
wisdom  and  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  recognised 
that  they  were  naked,  and  they  were  driven  out  of  the 
garden.' " 

In  the  Secrets  of  Enoch  (B.  c.  JO-A.  D.  50)  the  approach 
to  the  mediaeval  legend  is  even  closer.1  "  And  these 
men  took  me  from  thence,  and  brought  me  to  the  third 
heaven,  and  placed  me  in  the  midst  of  a  garden.  And 
I  saw  all  the  trees  of  beautiful  colours,  and  their  fruits 
ripe  and  fragrant,  and  all  kinds  of  food  which  they  pro- 
duced, springing  up  with  delightful  fragrance.  And  in 
the  midst,  in  that  place,  is  the  tree  of  life  on  which  God 
rests  when  he  comes  into  Paradise.  And  this  tree  can- 
not be  described  for  its  excellence  and  sweet  odour.  And 
it  is  beautiful  more  than  any  created  thing.  And  on  all 
sides  in  appearance  it  is  like  gold  and  crimson,  and  trans- 
parent as  fire,  and  it  covers  everything.  From  its  root  in 
the  garden  there  go  forth  four  streams  which  pour  honey 
and  milk,  oil  and  wine,  and  are  separated  in  four  direc- 
tions, and  go  about  with  a  soft  course.  And  they  go 
down  to  the  Paradise  of  Eden,  which  is  between  corrupt- 
ibility and  incorruptibility.  .  .  .  And  there  is  another  tree, 
an  olive  tree,  always  distilling  oil.  And  there  is  no  tree 
there  without  fruit,  and  every  tree  is  blessed.  .  .  .  And 
I  said,  '  What  a  very  blessed  place  is  this  ! '  And  those 
men  spake  unto  me  :  c  This  place,  Enoch,  is  prepared 
for  the  righteous  who  endure  every  attack  in  their  lives 
from  those  who  afflict  their  souls :  who  turn  away  their 

1  Slav.  Enoch,  viii. 


270      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

eyes  from  unrighteousness.  .  .  .  For  them  this  place  is 
prepared  as  an  eternal  inheritance.' ' 

Here  we  have  an  anticipation,  in  the  tree  in  which 
God  rests,  of  the  resting-place  of  the  unborn  Christ, 
the  child  whom  the  Seth  of  the  mediaeval  Latin  legend 
sees  and  hears  in  Paradise ;  anticipations,  too,  of  the 
mickle  light  that  made  the  Seth  of  the  Cursor  Mundi 
"  all  gloppend  " ;  and  of  the  four  streams  flowing  from 
the  root  of  the  tree ;  and  of  the  tree  of  mercy  as  well, 
and  the  oil.  These  last  are,  of  course,  the  antecedent  of 
the  arbor  and  the  oleum  misericordice  of  the  lost  Book  of 
Adam,  and  of  the  Apocalypse  of  Moses,  the  Latin  Vitay 
and  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.\ 

In  a  later  chapter1  Michael  the  archangel  again  takes 
charge  of  Enoch,  —  as  he  does  at  the  close  of  the  Gospel 
of  Nicodemus,  —  and  takes  from  him  his  earthly  robe, 
and  anoints  him  with  the  holy  oil  of  the  Lord,  excellent, 
fragrant,  shining  like  a  ray  of  the  sun.  "  And  I  gazed 
at  myself,  and  I  was  like  one  of  His  glorious  ones."  In 
Chapters  XLI  and  XLII,  Enoch  finds  "Adam  and  Eve 
and  all  our  forefathers  from  the  beginning  "  in  Hades ; 
just  as  the  sons  of  Simeon  found  them,  according  to 
Nicodemus  and  the  fiction  of  legend  and  drama  based 
thereon. 

The  Hades  of  Enoch  is  close  by  the  "  Paradise  of 
Eden,  where  rest  has  been  prepared  for  the  just,  and 
that  is  open  to  the  third  heaven,  and  shut  from  this 
world.  .  .  .  And  the  angelic  guards  of  the  Paradise  of 
Eden  will,  at  the  last  coming,  lead  forth  Adam  with  our 
forefathers  and  conduct  them  there  that  they  may  rejoice 
...  in  the  light  and  eternal  life."  There  is  much  here 
to  suggest  the  condition  of  the  Enoch  and  Elijah  of  the 

1   xxii,  6 


REMOTER   SOURCES  271 

various  plays  on  the  harrowing  of  hell.  The  writer  of 
the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  must  have  been  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  Hebrew  apocalyptic  literature.  It  is  in- 
teresting to  notice,  furthermore,  that  even  in  little  things, 
such  as  the  period  of  mourning  observed  by  Adam  and 
Eve  for  the  death  of  Abel,  and  their  coming  together 
again  at  the  command  of  the  Lord,  cyclic  miracles  like 
the  Cornish,  ecclesiastical  poems  such  as  the  Cursor,  and 
prose  legends  like  the  Aurea  of  Voragine,  follow  with 
but  slight  variation  stories  handed  down  by  the  Book  of 
'Jubilees l  and  the  Testaments  of  the  Twelve  Patriarchs 
and  other  Jewish  haggadic  or  apocalyptic  books. 

1   Jubilees,  iv,  7;  Leg.  Aur.,  History  of  Adam;   Cursor,  1.  1192. 


272       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  COMING  OF  ANTICHRIST 

THE  PROPHECY 

To  the  coming  of  Antichrist  reference  is  made  in  all  the 
English  cycles.  But  only  one,  the  Chester,  develops  it 
into  dramatic  form.  The  prophecy  as  given  there,  and 
in  the  slightly  earlier  Cursor  Mundi  and  the  Golden 
Legend  is  as  follows:  * 

Before  the  second  coming  of  Christ  and  the  day  of  doom, 
a  wicked  one  shall  arise.  He  will  call  himself  by  the  name 
of  the  Holy  One,  the  Elect  of  Israel,  he  will  assert  that  the 
prophecies  of  Moses,  David,  Isaiah,  Ezekiel,  Daniel,  fore- 
telling a  Messiah,  were  of  him;  and  that  he  who  had  here- 
tofore called  himself  Messiah,  a  certain  fellow  of  the  baser 
sort  —  "  Jesus,  he  hight,  I  understand "  -  was  nought 
other  than  imposter.  This  Antichrist,  the  wicked  one, 
will  not  hesitate  to  build  the  temple  again  and  be  honoured 
therein  as  God.  He  will  have  many  leal  to  his  service, 
and  will  war  against  the  good,  and  ruin  the  gospel. 

Wise  clerks  say  that  Antichrist  will  be  a  Jew  of  the 
tribe  of  Dan  (for  it  was  prophesied  that  Dan  should  be 
as  a  serpent,  smiting  the  good).  He  shall  be  cursed 
entirely.  The  Devil,  who,  though  bound  by  the  Lord, 
and  in  prison  after  the  harrowing  of  the  underworld, 

1  Based  chiefly  on  Morris's  abstract  of  Cunor,  21971-22426,  and 
the  Chester  play. 


Enoch,  Elias,  and  the  Antichrist 
From   "L'Apocalypse  en  frangais" 


THE   COMING   OF   ANTICHRIST      273 

will  be  at  his  birth.  For  Satan  shall  be  loosed  and  work 
woe.  The  Book  of  Revelation  tells  of  the  Angel  with 
the  key  of  the  pit  where  Satan  lies.  But  his  binding  is 
only  for  a  thousand  years.  When  loosed  he  will  beguile 
many.  As  the  Holy  Ghost  lighted  upon  Mary,  so  Satan 
will  descend  on  the  mother  of  Antichrist.  As  Christ  was 
born  in  Bethlehem,  a  place  of  grace,  so  Antichrist  shall 
be  born  in  Babylon,  a  town  of  pride  and  idolatry.  Beth- 
saida  and  Chorazin  shall  foster  him;  enchanters,  necro- 
mancers, and  jugglers  shall  nourish  and  fill  him  with 
falsehood.  All  the  Christians  in  Jerusalem  Antichrist 
will  slay;  he  will  set  his  throne  on  Solomon's  temple, 
and  great  emperors  and  kings  will  turn  to  him;  he  will 
destroy  all  that  was  hallowed  by  Christ;  he  will  send  out 
his  preachers,  and  do  many  violent  works  against  nature. 
Antichrist  may  even  raise  the  dead;  but  such  deeds  will 
not  be  true.  Good  men  will  be  puzzled  whether  he  be 
Christ  or  not.  He  will  search  all  lands  against  the  Chris- 
tians; he  will  draw  some  by  rich  presents,  others  by  fear, 
others  by  miracles.  Then  shall  arise  great  sorrowing; 
men  will  flee  to  the  hills;  he  in  the  house  will  leave  his 
goods.  The  Christians  will  either  forsake  Christ  or 
undergo  hard  vengeance,  till  they  die  in  Christ.  This 
sad  time  will  last  two  years  and  a  half,  for  our  Lord  will 
shorten  it.  We  know  that  the  kings  of  Greece  and  Persia 
were  chief  kings  formerly;  and  that  Rome  was  head  over 
all  receiving  tribute.  St.  Paul  says  that  before  Antichrist 
comes  there  shall  be  a  dissension  among  these;  the  king- 
doms will  rise  against  Rome;  and  a  great  king  of  France 
shall  be  made  Lord  of  Rome.  This  king  shall  be  blest; 
he  will  end  his  reign  at  Jerusalem,  giving  up  crown  and 
sceptre  to  Christ.  So  shall  end  the  Roman  empire.  After 

this  Antichrist  will  show  himself,  the  Wicked  One!     He 

18 


274      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

will  exalt  himself  above  the  Trinity.  He  will  simulate 
Christ,  saying  that  he  has  come  to  gather  in  the  Jews. 
He  will  even  prophesy  his  own  death  and  resurrection; 
and  the  kings  shall  mourn  him  and  lay  him  in  the  tomb, 
saying,  "If  he  rise  again,  Him  will  we  honour  day  and 
night  as  the  saviour  of  mankind."  Then  Antichrist  will 
come  out  of  the  tomb,  calling  upon  them  to  worship  him, 
and  they  shall  do  so.  And  he  will  send  forth  upon  them 
a  spirit,  saying  that  it  is  "My  Holy  Ghost;"  and  their 
hearts  shall  be  light;  and  he  will  bless  them  with  worldly 
goods,  cities,  castles,  towns,  towers,  principalities,  and 
kingdoms. 

Two  prophets,  then,  shall  come  on  high, 
That  been  Enoch,  and  eke  Helye. 

And  they  shall  teach  the  kings  that  this  is  not  Christ  but 
a  devil's  limb,  and  make  war  against  Antichrist,  but  he 
will  slay  them.  Then  our  Lord  shall  send  judgment  on 
Antichrist;  others  say  that  Michael  the  archangel  will 
destroy  him  in  Babylon. 

And  in  the  article  of  death,  the  Antichrist  shall  be  heard 
calling,  "Help,  help,  help,  help!  Help  Sathanas  and 
Lucifer."  Then  he  shall  die,  and  two  demons  shall  hear 
him  and  come  and  bear  him  down  to  hell.  Then  Enoch 
and  Elijah  shall  rise  from  the  dead,  and  Michael  shall 
say  to  them: 

You  have  been  long,  for  you  be  wise, 
Dwelling  in  earthly  Paradise; 
But  to  Heaven,  where  Himself  is, 
Now  shall  you  go  with  me. 

ITS  ORIGIN  AND  GROWTH 

Though  this  legend  is  narrated,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
Cursor  and  the  Legenda  Aurea,  they  are  not  the  only 


THE   COMING   OF   ANTICHRIST      275 

sources  of  the  unique  and  spectacular  play  of  Chester. 
The  drama  itself  show's  kinship  also  with  a  Latin  play  acted 
on  the  continent  about  1160,  and  probably  in  the  presence 
of  the  Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa.  The  prophecy 
in  its  religious  aspect  was  evidently  based  upon  St.  Paul's 
warning  to  the  Thessalonians  *  concerning  the  second 
coming  of  the  Lord,  "Let  no  man  deceive  you;  that  day 
shall  not  come  except  there  come  a  falling  away  first,  and 
that  man  of  Sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of  perdition,  who  op- 
poseth  and  exalteth  himself  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or 
that  is  worshipped;  so  that  he  as  God  sitteth  in  the  temple 
of  God,  shewing  himself  that  he  is  God.  His  coming  is 
after  the  working  of  Satan  with  all  power  and  signs  and 
lying  wonders.  He  shall  delude  man;  but  that  Wicked 
shall  at  the  last  be  revealed,  and  the  Lord  shall  consume 
him  with  the  brightness  of  his  coming."  To  this  forecast 
picturesque  materials  were  added  from  the  visions  of  Daniel 
(vii-xi)  and  the  prophetic  description  of  the  Beasts  in 
Revelation  (xi-xvii).  The  fable  received  its  more  dra- 
matic impetus,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  from  the 
words  attributed  to  Enoch  in  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus, 
"I  am  Enoch,  who  pleased  God,  and  was  translated 
hither  (to  Paradise)  by  him;  and  this  is  Elijah  the  Tish- 
bite;  and  we  are  to  live  until  the  end  of  the  world;  and 
shall  be  sent  by  God  to  resist  Antichrist,  and  to  be  slain 
by  him,  and  after  three  days  to  rise  again,  and  to  be 
caught  up  in  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord." 

Traces,  however,  of  elements  other  than  the  religious 
are  apparent  in  the  story.  The  Wicked  One  would 
seem  to  be  a  personification  couched,  on  the  one  hand,  in 
terms  of  an  old  and  fairly  consistent  Jewish  tradition 
of  the  end  of  the  world,  which  is  only  in  part  de- 

1  2  Tbess.  i,  ii. 


276       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

pendent  upon  the  prophecies  of  the  Book  of  Revelation 
and  Second  Thessalonians;  and  on  the  other  hand,  in 
terms  of  progressively  changing  political  crises.  The  po- 
litical factor  had  undergone  mutation  with  the  progres- 
sive conditions  of  history.  As  far  back  as  the  time 
of  the  captivity  of  Judah,  587  B.  c.,  the  Wicked  One  is 
a  foreign  foe  of  the  kingdom;  a  conception  poetically 
matured  in  the  chapters  of  Ezekiel  (xxxviii-ix)  where  Gog, 
of  the  land  of  Magog,  chief  prince  of  Mescheck  and 
Tubal,  is  described  as  mustering  his  forces  for  an  inroad 
upon  Palestine  from  the  north.  With  awful  judgments 
(like  those  of  the  fifteen  signs  that  precede  the  day  of 
doom)  the  Lord  overthrows  him  and  his  hosts;  and 
Israel  lives  once  more  with  Judah  in  freedom,  unity, 
peace,  prosperity,  and  righteousness.  This  apocalypse 
appears  to  refer  to  an  expected  invasion  by  the  Scythians 
about  580  B.  c.  In  Daniel's  vision,  too,  of  the  four  Beasts, 
the  disturber  is  a  foreign  power.  In  the  early  Christian 
tradition  the  dreaded  invasion  is  of  the  Huns,  whose  west- 
ward migration  the  Roman  Empire  alone  can  stay.  Rome 
therefore  comes  to  be  the  bulwark  against  the  modern 
Gog  and  Magog.  In  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  however, 
and  in  Revelation,  the  "man  of  sin,"  the  "son  of  perdi- 
tion" —  who  is  to  seat  himself  in  the  temple  and  claim 
Messianic  honours,  dominate,  like  Gog,  the  kings  of 
Egypt,  Lybia,  and  Ethiopia,  mark  men  with  the  mark  of 
the  beast,  work  celestial  wonders,  persecute  the  righteous, 
be  unmasked  by  the  two  witnesses  of  the  true  Christ,  put 
them  to  death,  drive  the  true  believers  into  the  wilderness, 
and  finally  be  overthrown  in  an  angelic  battle  where  Christ 
or  Michael  leads  the  victorious  host,  —  this  son  of  per- 
dition is  no  foreigner,  but  a  Jew;  one  of  the  tribe  of 
Dan  (says  the  apocryphal  Testament  of  Dan).  The 


^    01 


THE   COMING   OF  ANTICHRIST      277 

Gog  tradition  was  not  fully  absorbed  in  the  modern 
Antichrist  belief  until  some  six  centuries  after  the  death 
of  Christ.  Then  a  new  historical  significance  was  sug- 
gested by  the  identification  of  Gog  or  Antichrist  with  the 
conquering  Mussulman.  Meanwhile,  the  Antichrist  of 
St.  Paul  and  of  the  Book  of  Revelation  was  gradually 
assimilated  with  Belial,  the  evil  spirit  of  the  air,  —  this 
because  the  Jewish  apocalyptic  writers  of  the  first  cen- 
turies before  and  after  Christ  preached  insistently  of  a 
war  to  be  waged  in  the  last  days  between  the  Messiah 
and  Belial  or  Beliar.  So  the  early  Christian  writers,  hav- 
ing identified  Belial  with  Antichrist,  and  finally  with  the 
Dragon  as  in  Revelation,  revived  that  ancient  Babylonian 
myth  of  the  rebellion  of  Lucifer,  and  his  attempted  usurpa- 
tion of  the  place  and  power  of  the  Most  High,1  to  which 
in  after  years  our  mediaeval  ancestors  were  to  turn  for  the 
opening  spectacle  of  all  dramatic  cycles.  As  the  spiritual 
conflict  of  the  miracles  begins  with  Lucifer,  so  with  Anti- 
christ it  ends;  and  these  twain  are  but  the  personification 
of  the  same  principle  of  rebellious  pride. 

The  political  tradition  was  as  a  whole  introduced  to 
Western  literature  by  the  monk  Adso  of  Toul,  who  in 
the  tenth  century  made  a  compilation,  called  De  Anti- 
christo,  of  materials  which  he  drew  from  a  seventh-century 
Apocalypse  of  the  Pseudo-Methodius,  and  from  the  third 
of  the  famous  Sibylline  Oracles,  lines  63  to  74,  perhaps 
of  the  fourth  century.  Of  these  sources  the  former  de- 
rives from  various  Jewish  apocalypses;  while  the  latter 
reproduces  a  myth  of  Nero  Redivivus,  who,  as  Beliar  or 
Belial,  is  at  the  latter  days  to  return  and  work  delusion 
of  the  church  by  lying  wonders.  And  of  this  apprehension 

1  See  Encyc.  Bib.;  Hagenbach;  and  Dorner,  System  of  Christian 
Doctrine. 


278      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

of  renewed  political  oppression  early  traces  may  be  found 
in  the  Teaching  of  the  Twelve  Apostles,  in  the  works  of 
St.  Jerome  and  Hippolytus,  and  of  the  well-known  prophet 
of  the  Syrians,  Ephraem,  who  died  about  378  A.  D. 

Beside  these  legends,  so  fruitful  of  narrative  and 
dramatic  harvest  for  the  middle  ages,  there  are  others 
drawn  largely  from  the  apocryphal  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  of  equal  fascination  and  of  no  less  vogue  in 
the  days  of  the  cyclic  drama.  We  cannot,  for  lack  of 
space,  give  attention  to  them  here.  But  of  some,  such 
as  the  Nativity,  Childhood,  and  Betrothal  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  her  Assumption  and  Coronation;  the  stories  of 
Veronica,  Magdalene,  Pilate,  and  a  few  others,  a  word 
will  be  said  in  connection  with  the  sources  of  the  cycles 
as  considered  in  the  appendix  to  this  volume. 


RELATION  OF  MIRACLES  TO  MORALS    279 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   RELATION   OF   MIRACLES   TO   MORALS, 
AND    OF   MORALS   TO    INTERLUDES 

MIRACLES  AND  MORALS 

AN  unfortunate  misapprehension  has  obtained  currency 
to  the  effect  that  there  was  a  deliberate  transition,  chron- 
ological and  logical,  from  the  miracle  cycle  to  the  "mor- 
ality," and  thence  to  something  entirely  different  called 
the  "  interlude";  and  that  certain  steps  in  the  development 
of  comedy  were  taken  part  passu  with  this  transition.  It 
is,  for  instance,  said,  that  "in  the  progress  of  the  drama, 
Moralities  followed  Mysteries  and  were  succeeded  by  Inter- 
ludes. When  folk  tired  of  Religion  on  the  Stage  they  took 
to  the  inculcation  of  morality  and  prudence;  and  when 
this  bored  them  they  set  up  Fun."  *  This  statement  of 
one  of  the  most  genial  and  learned  of  English  scholars 
was  of  course  not  intended  to  be  scientific.  It  represents 
what,  in  general,  seem  to  be  the  facts,  but  it  may  be  so 
easily  misconstrued  in  support  of  several  popular  miscon- 
ceptions that  I  must,  with  the  utmost  respect,  attempt  to 
qualify  some  of  its  clauses.  To  begin  with,  the  terms  are 
misleading:  "mystery"  suggests  the  French  mystere,  of 
which  the  career  was  quite  different  from  the  English 
miracle  or  miracle  play;  and  as  to  "morality,"  though 
the  word  occurs  in  an  English  manuscript  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  it  is  even  there  borrowed  from  the  French.  Its 
1  Furnivall,  Digby  Ptays,  Forewords  xiii. 


28o       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

history  in  France  may  be  found  in  Petit  de  Julleville.1 
The  term  is  never  used  by  the  English  contemporaries  of 
these  plays.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  on  the  part  of 
our  ancestors  is  "Moral,"  "Moral  Play,"  or  especially 
"moral,"  "goodly,"  or  "pithy  Interlude."  It  cannot  be 
said  that  the  moral  play  followed  the  miracle.  The 
earliest  moral  in  England  of  which  we  have  information 
is  the  Play  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  mentioned  in  the  preamble 
to  the  ordinances  of  the  guild  in  York  which  performed 
it.  It  must  have  existed  before  1384,  and  was  played 
until  1582.  It  presented  "vices  for  scorn  and  virtues  for 
praise,"  by  means  of  separate  pageants,  one  of  which  was 
the  pageant  of  Sloth.  The  play  is  now  lost,  but  we  can 
form  a  definite  idea  of  it  from  the  Beverley  Minute-book  2 
where  an  entry  is  made,  May  29,  1469,  of  a  Paternoster 
Play  divided  into  a  general  pageant  of  Vicious,  and  seven 
others  of  Pride,  Lust,  Sloth,  Gluttony,  Hatred,  Avarice, 
and  Anger.  The  York  play  was  evidently  a  moral;  in 
point  of  antiquity,  it  rivals  the  collective  York  miracles 
themselves;  and  it  persisted  upon  the  stage  as  late  as  they.3 
Another  moral,  though  we  do  not  know  whether  it  was 
so  called,  is  the  Creed  Play  of  the  York  guild  of  Corpus 
Christi.  The  play,  like  its  guild,  may  date  back  to  1408. 
It  was  acted,  probably,  in  various  pageants  during  the 
palmy  days  of  the  miracle  cycles,  and  the  city  council  are 
still  trying  to  have  it  performed  as  late  as  1568,  twenty- 
one  years  after  the  guild  has  gone  out  of  existence,  and 
within  a  decade  of  the  last  performance  of  the  miracle 
plays.  As  to  morals  still  extant,  if  the  plays  called  the 

1  La  Comedie  tt  In  Maun  en  France  au  mojen  age.     Paris,  1 886, 
p.  45  tt  seq. 

1  Leach,  Some  English  Pfays,  etc.,  Furn.  Misf.,  p.  221. 
•  Lucy  Toulmin  Smith,  York  Mysttries,  XXVIII. 


RELATION  OF  MIRACLES  TO  MORALS    281 

Pride  of  Life,  and  the  Castell  of  Perseverance  date  from 
the  first  decade  of  the  fifteenth  century,  as  appears  to  be 
established,  they  also  must  have  been  composed  while 
the  miracles  were  in  process  of  formation:  about  the 
time  of  the  completion  of  the  Wakefield  cycle,  before  the 
last  pageants  were  added  to  the  Ludus  Coventrize,  maybe 
half  a  century  earlier  than  the  Digby  miracle-marvels  of 
the  Magdalene  and  St.  Paul,  which  themselves  possess 
features  of  the  moral  play,  and  two  full  centuries  before 
miracles  ceased  to  be  played.  While  the  biblical  play 
still  ran  its  course  under  the  conduct  of  the  crafts  in  vari- 
ous towns,  the  allegorical,  known  by  its  flavour  as  the 
moral  or  moral  play,  or  by  its  rapidly  diminishing  pro- 
portions as  the  "enterlude,"  flourished  under  the  patron- 
age, not  only  of  the  crafts,  but  perhaps,  with  better  grace, 
under  that  of  school,  castle,  and  court.  Nor  can  it  be 
said  that  one  of  these  kinds  survived  the  other.  The  last 
morals  worthy  of  the  name  were  written  by  Robert  Wilson 
within  a  decade  after  1579,  when  last  the  York  miracles 
were  performed;  the  quasi-morality  by  Greene  and  Lodge 
called  the  Booking-Glass  preceded  the  last  performance 
of  the  Chester  plays  by  thirteen,  and  of  the  Beverley  by 
seventeen  years.  Plays  of  the  moral  and  scientific  kind, 
to  be  sure,  were  presented  at  the  universities  many  years 
later;  the  Lingua,  for  instance,  in  1607,  and  Techno  garni  a, 
in  1618;  but  these  were  artificial  survivals  of  the  stock. 
The  moral  was,  therefore,  rather  a  younger  contemporary 
and  complement  of  the  miracle  than  a  follower,  or  a  sub- 
stitute for  it. 

Perhaps  the  misconception  of  which  I  have  spoken  has 
been  fostered  by  the  idea  that  the  allegorical  characters 
of  the  moral  were  derived  from  sporadic  figures  of  that 
description  found  in  some  of  the  miracle  plays  and  in 


282       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

similar  pageants  of  the  middle  ages.  But  as  Ebert,  Ward, 
and  Creizenach  haw.  shown,  neither  miracle  nor  moral 
play  need  have  derived  its  allegorical  method  from  the 
other.  The  explanation  of  the  practice  is  pyschological 
and  obvious;  its  history  is  traceable  to  the  personification 
of  abstract  ideas  common  in  the  ethical  or  sacred  writ  of 
every  faith  and  race.  The  motives  of  allegorical  drama 
may  be  detected  in  Latin  literature  all  the  way  from  the 
Anticlaudianus  of  Alanus  de  Insulis,  1202,  back  to  the 
Psychomachia  of  Prudentius,  400.  The  World-Flesh- 
and-Devil  allegory  flourished  from  1200  on,  but  it  draws 
its  inspiration  from  St.  Paul's  armour  of  the  Christian, 
Ephesians  vi,  II,  etc.,  and  St.  Paul  in  his  turn  was 
elaborating  upon  the  "complete  armour  of  the  righteous" 
described  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  v,  17-19,  by  an 
Alexandrian  Jew  of  the  second  century  before  Christ. 
The  earliest  dramatic  representations  of  the  kind  of 
which  I  know  are  the  Lord's  Prayer  already  mentioned, 
and  the  contest  between  the  Seven  Virtues  and  Seven 
Vices  performed  in  Tours  in  1390.  Allegory  is  already 
found  in  Caedmon  and  Cynewulf;  it  bursts  into  full 
bloom  with  Guillaume  de  Loris,  Langland,  Chaucer, 
Lydgate,  and  Gower.  In  the  Pastime  of  Pleasure  it 
falls  into  the  sere,  but  from  Brandt  and  Barclay  it  receives 
an  infusion  of  concrete  life  and  character,  and  so  puts  forth 
its  buds  afresh.  One  of  the  earliest  allegorical  representa- 
tions in  the  miracle  plays  was  that  of  the  four  "  daughters 
of  God  "  in  the  eleventh  N-Town  play.  But  these  daugh- 
ters of  God  are  earlier  found  in  the  thirteenth-century 
work  of  Langton,  and  in  Grosseteste's  Chateau  d* Amour  ; 
and  at  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  in  a  production  of 
Guillaume  Herman.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  Her- 
man's conception  is,  in  turn,  based  upon  the  "Mercy  and 


OF   MORALS  AND   INTERLUDES     283 

Truth  are  met  together;  Righteousness  and  Peace  have 
kissed  each  other,"  of  the  eighty-fifth  Psalm.1  Allegory, 
both  in  literature  and  in  drama,  commanded  the  attention 
of  the  public  contemporaneously  with  scriptural  narrative. 
People,  therefore,  did  not  wait  until  they  were  "tired  of 
religion  on  the  stage"  before  "they  took  to  the  inculca- 
tion of  morality  and  prudence;"  nor  could  they  have 
hoped  to  escape  religion  by  taking  to  the  moral  play.  The 
moral  plays,  like  those  which  were  originally  liturgical, 
aimed  at  religious  instruction.  But  as  the  scriptural- 
liturgical  illustrated  the  forms  of  the  church  service  and 
its  narrative  content,  the  moral  illustrated  the  sermon 
and  the  creed.  The  former  dealt  with  history  and  ritual, 
the  latter  with  doctrine;  the  former  made  the  religious 
truth  concrete  in  scriptural  figures  and  events,  the  latter 
brought  it  home  to  the  individual  by  allegorical  means. 
The  historical  course  of  the  drama  was  not  from  the 
scriptural  play  to  the  allegorical,  but  from  the  collective 
miracle  and  collective  moral,  practically  contemporary,  to 
the  individual  miracle  and  individual  moral.  The  dra- 
matic quality  of  the  moral  was,  as  we  shall  presently 
remark,  not  the  same  as  that  of  the  miracle,  but  it  neither 
supplants  nor  fully  supplements  that  of  the  miracle.2 

MORALS  AND  INTERLUDES 

The  distinction  between  "morality"  and  "interlude" 
has  likewise  been  unduly  and  illogically  emphasised.  The 
former  term  may  properly  be  said  to  indicate  the  content 
and  aim  of  a  drama,  the  latter,  its  garb  and  occasion;  but 

1  See  Ward,  E.  Dram.  Lit.,  I,  106,  and  Courthope,  Hist.  Eng. 
Poetry,  I,  415-417. 

a  See  my  Rep.  Engl.  Com.,  Iv-lvi,  from  which  this  paragraph  and 
most  of  the  next  are  taken. 


284      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

the  essential  characters  of  the  moral  play  (the  human  hero 
and  the  representatives  of  good  and  evil  contending  for 
his  soul)  may  be  common  to  "interlude"  and  "morality" 
alike;  and  both  terms  may  with  justice  refer  to  the  same 
drama.  After  1500,  the  role  of  hero  is,  to  be  sure,  some- 
times filled  by  an  historical  character,  or  by  one  or  more 
concrete  personages  representative  of  a  type;  but  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  the  play  possessing  such  a  hero  is 
therefore  to  be  called  an  interlude,  for  similar  heroes  are 
to  be  found  in  the  morals  before  1500.  Nor  should  the 
statement  be  accepted  that  morals  are  distinguished  from 
interludes  by  the  presence  in  the  former  of  both  Devil  and 
Vice;  for  several  interludes  of  a  later  date  have  both  Devil 
and  Vice,  while  some  of  the  earlier  morals,  written  before 
1500,  have  but  one  or  the  other  of  these  characters,  or 
neither.1  The  attempt  to  characterise  the  moral  by  its 
professed  didactic  intent,  and  the  interlude  by  the  lack 
thereof,  or  by  the  profession  of  mirth,  is  equally  unavailing; 
for  the  manifest  moral  the  Pride  of  Life,  one  of  the  earliest 
extant,  makes  explicit  promise  in  its  prologue  "of  mirth 
and  eke  of  kare"  from  "this  our  game;"  while  Mankind, 
a  moral  of  1461  to  1485,  which  advertises  no  amusement, 
is  as  full  of  it  as  any  late  interlude.  On  the  other  hand, 
several  plays  written  after  1568,  calling  themselves  "come- 
dies or  enterludes,"  and  promising  brevity  and  mirth,  are 
tedious.  But,  for  the  advertisement,  sub-title,  or  specifi- 
cation of  the  play,  we  must  of  course  hold  the  publisher 
and  not  the  author  generally  responsible. 

The  common  misapprehension  that  "moralities"  were 
succeeded  by  "interludes"  is  probably  due  in  large  part 

1  Wtidom  has  only  Lucifer  ;  Nature  has  only  Sensuality  and  minor 
Vices  ;  Pride  of  Life  had  Devils  in  all  probability,  but  no  Vice,  for  Mirth 
is  not  one  ;  Everyman  has  neither. 


OF   MORALS  AND    INTERLUDES     285 

to  the  fact  that  the  "interlude"  had  been  used  in  England 
at  different  periods  for  entirely  different  kinds  of  enter- 
tainment, some  of  which,  notably  that  to  which  Collier 
restricted  the  term,  were  of  later  production  than  the 
moral.  Not  all,  however,  for  the  term  had  been  in  use 
from  a  date  preceding  the  first  mention  of  the  moral  play, 
which  in  fact  the  "  interlude "  ultimately  absorbed  into 
itself.  From  1300  and  probably  earlier,  the  term  "inter- 
lude" seems  to  have  been  used  as  a  synonym  for  singing 
and  music,  probably  also  for  shows  presented  during  the 
pauses  of  banquets.  In  the  last  years  of  Edward  Ps 
reign,  perhaps  as  early  as  1300,  the  word  was  employed  for 
a  dramatised  anecdote  of  the  type  of  the  French  or  Italian 
farce:  Hie  incipit  Interludium  de  Clerico  et  Puella.1  The 
only  extant  copy  of  this,  according  to  Wright  and  Halli- 
well,2  is  written  in  a  hand  of  the  beginning  of  the  four- 
teenth century,  and  the  title  would  appear  to  be  con- 
temporary with  the  rest  of  the  manuscript.  The  language 
is  English  of  a  decided  dialect,  according  to  ten  Brink  3 
the  South  Northumbrian,  and  it  appears  to  be  the  earliest 
extant  specimen  of  its  kind.  A  fragment,  moreover,  of 
a  Cornish  farce  of  the  same  century  has  been  preserved 
in  the  Revue  Celtique*  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  farce 
interludes  abounded  at  the  banquets  of  sovereigns  and 
nobles  from  1300  down.  It  is,  in  fact,  more  probable 
than  not  that  they  may  be  traced  to  the  dramatic  dia- 
logue of  the  Anglo-Norman  jongleurs.  The  performers 
of  these  interludes  were  probably  professional  from  an 
early  date;  but  the  name  interludentes  does  not  occur 
until  the  reign  of  Edward  IV,  when  it  is  used  both  for 

1  Ward,  I,  237.  a  Reliquiae  Antiqua,  I,  145. 

'  Engl.  Lit.,  II,  i,  295.  4  IV,  259. 


286      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

strolling  companies  and  for  professional  players  attached 
to  the  household  of  a  magnate. 

As  a  synonym  for  miracles  themselves,  the  name  "in- 
terlude" is  used  before  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century 
in  the  well-known  Tretise  of  Miraclis  Pleyinge.  Speaking 
against  sacred  plays,  the  author  says  "how  thanne  may 
a  prist  pleyn  in  entirlodis;"  and  that  these  "entirlodis" 
are  both  biblical  miracles  and  saints'  plays  is  evident,  for 
he  specifies  those  "miraclis"  that  "Crist  dude  heere  in 
erthe,  outher  in  hymsilf  outher  in  hise  seyntis,"  and  again 
by  name,  the  plays  of  Antichrist,  Doomsday,  the  Passion, 
the  Crucifixion.1 

But  this  author  does  not  restrict  the  word  "interlude" 
to  a  serious  miracle.  He  may  have  had  in  mind,  when  he 
inveighs  in  the  same  treatise  against  "japyng"  interludes, 
the  Mak  and  the  Judicium  of  the  Wakefield  master,  or 
such  exhibitions  as  that  indicated  in  the  margin  of  the 
Chester  play  of  the  Three  Kings  (one  of  the  oldest  of  the 
cycle,  "The  Boye  and  Pigge  when  the  Kinges  are  gone," 
or  a  scene  like  that,  of  late  insertion,  between  the  "tav- 
ernere"  and  the  devils  in  Chester  XVIII.,  or  worst  of  all 
some  mockery  of  the  ritual.  There  is,  however,  only 
slender  proof  that  in  England  the  farce  interlude  was 
"commonly  introduced  between  the  acts  of  long  mystery 
plays."  This  statement,  which  one  finds  in  the  New 
English  Dictionary,  applies  rather  to  France.  In  Eng- 
land the  word  "interlude,"  when  used  with  reference  to 
the  "mysteries,"  indicated  not  merely  a  diversion,  but  a 
kind  of  "mystery"  play  itself. 

The  word  is  next  used  for  a  brief  farce  or  dramatic  story 
introduced  between  the  parts  of  a  long  moral  play,  like 
the  interlude  of  the  Pauper  and  the  Pardoner  in  the  Thrie 

1  Rel.  Antiq.t  II,  42. 


OF   MORALS  AND   INTERLUDES     287 

Estaitis,  1440;  and  finally  we  find  it  applied,  in  1504, 
not  to  a  farce,  but  to  an  imposing  allegorical  drama, 
Skelton's  Nigramansir,  which  called  itself  a  "moral 
enterlude  and  a  pithie, "  and  was  an  excellent  satire.  In 
1514  we  learn  that  two  morals  (written  by  Medwall  and 
Cornish)  were  acted  under  the  name  of  interludes  before 
Henry  VIII.  Some  eight  years  later,  Wynkyn  de  Worde 
printed  as  a  "proper  new  interlude"  an  unalloyed  moral, 
Mundus  et  Infans,  which  had  been  written  about  1500; 
and  before  1538  various  other  out-and-out  morals,  such 
as  Medwall's  Nature,  although  written  maybe  as  early 
as  1486,  and  the  Four  Elements,  composed  1517  to  1519, 
and  Magnyfycence,  1515  to  1523,  are  published  under  the 
same  seductive  and  fashionable  designation.  No  matter 
how  serious,  they  are  all  "enterludes,"  "goodly"  or  "newe 
and  mery." 

During  these  latter  years  the  name  is  also  appropriately 
applied  to  the  descendants  of  the  old  Interludium  culti- 
vated by  Heywood  and  undoubtedly  by  others,  first  as  the 
"mery  play,"  then  as  the  "newe  and  very  mery  enterlude," 
—  synonyms,  in  this  case,  for  a  debat  like  the  Wethery  or 
for  a  brief  dramatic  sketch  presenting  social  types  and 
concrete  characters  in  a  fable  which,  at  any  rate,  was 
unified  and  spicy,  if  not  comprehensive  or  profound,  — 
a  farcical  or  a  satirical  comedy,  in  short,  whose  aim,  as 
Heywood  said,  was  "not  to  teach  but  to  touch."  In  1530 
Palsgrave  defines  "interlude"  as  moralite,  and  from  that 
date  on,  the  designation  "interlude"  is  applied  to  alle- 
gorical plays  of  all  kinds,  long  or  short,  lively  or  dull: 
moral,  like  the  Disobedient  Child,  acted  1560  to  1561;  peda- 
gogical, like  Witte  and  Wisdome,  written  between  1547  and 
1553;  politically  controversial,  like  Respublica  of  1553,  or 
doctrinally,  like  Newe  Custome,  printed  in  1573;  "godly 


288      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

and  mirthful,"  after  the  fashion  of  Like  Will  to  Like,  printed 
1568;  or  scriptural,  instructive  and  concrete,  like  Wager's 
Mary  Magdalene  of  1567.  As  early  as  1538  we  find  the 
term  used  by  Bishop  Bale  for  morals  and  artificial  miracle 
plays  which  he  also  somewhat  indifferently  designated 
tragedies  and  comedies.  In  1567  it  is  applied  by  the 
printer  to  the  half-classical,  half-moral  tragedy  of  Hor- 
estes;  and  in  1568  it  appears  on  the  title-page  of  a  "neue, 
mery  and  wittie  comedie"  out  of  scripture,  the  History 
of  Jacob  and  Esau. 

As  a  synonym  for  "comedy,"  somewhat,  indeed,  in  the 
modern  sense,  "enterlude"  occurs  as  early  as  the  years 
adjoining  1520  to  1530:  for  instance,  to  designate  the 
"newe  comodie  in  maner  of  an  enterlude"  of  the  story  of 
Calisto  and  Melibcea.  In  his  Governour,  1531,  Sir  Thomas 
Elyot  speaks  of  "entreludes"  as  if  they  were  the  English 
equivalent  of  the  classical  comedy;  and  again,  in  Cooper's 
Dictionary  (edition  of  1559),  which  was  a  revision  of 
Elyot's  older  work  "Comcedia,"  that  is,  the  classical 
comedy,  is  defined  as  an  "enterlude  wherein  the  common 
vices  of  men  and  women  are  apparently  declared  in  per- 
sonage." *  In  this  sense  "enterlude"  is  employed  by 
Udall  for  his  "comedie"  in  the  fashion  of  Plautus  and 
Terence.  Indeed  after  1550,  the  tendency  among  the 
learned  seems  to  have  been  to  regard  this  term  as  a 
synonym  for  the  play  yielding  mirth,  felicity,  and  recrea- 
tion, as  opposed  to  the  tragedy.  Such  a  distinction  is 
made  by  Puttenham,  for  instance,  in  his  Art  of  Poetry, 
1589;  and  in  Mar  prelate  of  1588,  Gammer  Gurton  is 
called  a  "  proper  enterlude."  From  that  time  until  Collier, 
in  1831,  restricted  the  term  to  plays  like  Heywood's,  the 

1  For  references  to  Elyot  and  Cooper  I  am  indebted  to  Professor 
Fliigel. 


EVERYMAN 
From  "Everyman  :  A  Moral  Play' 


OF    MORALS   AND    INTERLUDES     289 

name  "interlude"  stood  for  any  humorous  and  popular 
play. 

These  conclusions  proceed  from  a  study  of  the  Morals 
produced  while  Miracles  and  Marvels  were  still  in  their 
prime.  Between  these  earlier  and  the  later  moral  plays, 
however,  Mr.  Pollard  thinks  that  there  is  a  real  distinction. 
He  therefore  gives  separate  treatment  to  those  written 
before  1500  (inclusive  of  Everyman  and  the  World  and 
Child),  which  are  "concerned  with  issues  that  touch  the 
whole  of  human  nature  .  .  .  the  whole  of  a  man's  life 
in  its  relation  to  its  eternal  issues,"  and  the  later  plays 
of  the  kind,  "moral,  educational  and  controversial,  that 
deal  with  mere  fragments  of  men's  life."  *  The  latter, 
according  to  him,  are  inferior  in  quality  and,  as  the  name 
"interlude"  would  imply,  are  shorter,  easier  of  acting, 
and  of  a  trivial  nature.  He  further  distinguishes  the 
two  kinds  by  saying  that  "in  the  morality  proper  "  (i.e., 
the  earlier  moral)  "the  Vice  has  no  part.  But  when  the 
desire  was  felt  for  some  humorous  relief  in  the  didactic 
interludes,  a  character  probably  dressed  in  the  tradi- 
tional garb  of  the  domestic  fool  was  introduced  and 

O 

obtained  great  popularity."  Mr.  Pollard  regrets  that 
most  of  the  popular  ideas  about  morality  plays  have  been 
derived  from  plays  of  this  latter  kind.  It  appears  to  me, 
however,  that  the  confusion,  if  any,  has  been  caused  by 
just  such  attempts  to  distinguish  arbitrarily  between  plays 
as  earlier  and  later,  longer  and  shorter,  which  in  essential 
method  were  alike  ;  that  is,  were  allegorical.  That  some 
of  the  morals  produced  before  1500  were  of  imposing 
dimensions  is  true;  Perseverance,  for  instance,  had  some 
3500  lines.  Still  these  dimensions  are  insignificant  when 
compared  with  those  of  contemporary  moralites  in  France.. 

1  Eng.  Miracle  Plays,  liii. 
19 


29o      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

De  la  Chesnaye's  Condemnation  des  Banquets  (1507) 
exceeded  3500  verses;  Bien-Avise,  acted  in  1439,  reached 
8000;  and  these  are  as  pygmies  beside  I'Homme  p'echeur 
and  VHomme  juste  l  of  the  period  of  Louis  XII,  which 
boast  respectively,  22,000  and  30,000  lines.  The  long 
or  short  of  an  English  moral  is  a  trifling  differentia,  at 
the  best.  But  when  we  come  to  compare  English  morals 
written  before  1500  with  those  written  after,  we  find  no 
great  difference  in  length  after  all.  Nature,  written  before 
1500,  has  2860  lines.  Respublica,  as  late  as  1553,  has 
2000  odd.  The  Conflict  of  Conscience,  1581,  stretches 
itself  to  the  number  of  2200,  long  ones  at  that.  Jacob 
and  Esau,  licensed  1557,  has  2400  lines;  and  if  my  memory 
serves  me  the  moral  interlude  of  Longer  thou  Livest  and 
Wager's  Mary  Magdalene  are  of  the  same  proportions  as 
Nature,  or  perhaps  greater.  On  the  other  hand,  before 
1522,  when  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day  Wynkyn 
de  Worde  printed  the  World  and  the  Child  as  a  "proper 
new  interlude,"  although  it  was  an  old-fashioned  moral 
that  had  been  written  some  twenty  years  earlier,  —  before 
1522,  I  say,  several  similar  allegorical  dramas  had  existed 
which  were  as  brief  as  many  of  the  kind  afterward  pro- 
duced. Everyman,  written  about  1500,  which  calls  itself 
in  the  prologue  a  "morall  playe,"  has  only  700  lines  and 
is  shorter  than  most  of  the  succeeding  interludes  so  called; 
the  moral  play  Mankynd,  1461  to  1485,  has  only  900  lines, 
and  the  500  lines  remaining  of  the  Pride  of  Life,  one  of 
the  earliest  of  morals,  would  appear  to  be  fully  one-half 
of  the  whole.  The  World  and  the  Child  itself  has  but 
looo  lines;  whereas  many  later  morals  called  new,  pretty, 
and  short  interludes  are  anywhere  from  one-half  again 
to  twice  as  long. 

1  Petit  dc  Jullcville,  Comedie,  p.  79,  etc.  ;  Creizenach,  /.  47 1 . 


DEATH 
From  "Everyman  :  A  Moral  Play' 


OF    MORALS   AND    INTERLUDES     291 

To  discriminate  between  the  older  and  the  later  morals 
or  moral  interludes  by  attributing  to  the  former  a  broader 
scope  or  deeper  spiritual  significance,  is  likewise  of  no 
avail.  Of  the  older  set,  Mankind,  for  instance,  does  not 
represent  the  "whole  of  a  man's  life  in  its  relation  to  its 
eternal  issues;"  and  if  the  Pride  of  Life  and  Everyman 
touch  the  whole  of  human  nature,  they  do  so  merely  in 
the  moment  of  death.  The  later  plays,  on  the  other  hand, 
can  by  no  means  be  collectively  characterised  as  repre- 
senting "mere  fragments  of  man's  life."  Moros,  of  the 
Longer  thou  Livest,  runs  a  protracted  human  career;  so 
do  the  characters  of  The  Nice  Wanton,  and  they  touch 
as  well  most  of  the  moral  possibilities.  Skelton's  "goodly 
enterlude  and  mery"  of  Magnificence  (about  1520)  and 
Lyndsay's  Satyre  of  the  Thrie  Estaitis  (acted  1540)  may, 
perhaps,  be  called  specialisations  of  the  problem,  but  they 
afford  as  profound  and  extensive  a  treatment  of  vital 
issues  as  most  of  the  extant  morals  of  the  century  that 
preceded.  The  latter  of  these  is  a  "proper"  enough 
"morality"  to  contain  within  itself  an  interlude,  specifi- 
cally so  called,  existing  purely  to  exemplify  the  lesson  of 
the  whole.  The  Thrie  Estaitis  advances,  to  be  sure,  the 
technique  of  comedy  by  the  employment  of  concrete  char- 
acters, but  the  improvement  is  one  of  degree,  not  of  kind; 
it  is  a  moral  as  undiluted  as  the  Pride  of  Life,  written 
maybe  a  hundred  years  before. 

The  reduction  in  the  number  of  actors,  as  I  have  else- 
where said,1  the  abbreviation  of  the  play,  the  concentra- 
tion of  the  plot,  wherever  these  exist  in  the  later  morals 
or  moral  interludes,  are  not  evidence  of  a  change  of  kind, 
but  merely  of  its  natural  permutation  through  a  period 
of  some  two  hundred  years.  When  ten  Brink  tells  us 

1  Rep.  EngL  Com.,  Ivi. 


292      PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

that  the  interlude  was  the  species  best  adapted  to  further 
the  development  of  dramatic  art,  we  must  understand 
him  to  mean  the  individual  as  opposed  to  the  collective 
drama,  or  the  occasional  performance  by  professionals 
for  the  delectation,  and  sometimes  at  the  order,  of  private 
parties,  as  opposed  to  expository  or  perfunctory  plays, 
plays  collaborated  by  crafts,  or  associated  with  times, 
places,  and  ends  external  to  art.  The  improvement  in 
scope  and  elasticity  which  marks  the  individual  play  is 
due  to  various  causes;  to  patronage,  for  instance,  which 
prefers  amusement  to  instruction  and  the  work  of  artists 
to  that  of  journeymen;  to  the  development,  accord- 
ingly, of  a  bread-and-butter  profession  of  acting,  and  to 
the  accompanying  stimuli  of  necessity  and  opportunity. 
Poetic  invention,  dramatic  constructiveness  and  style,  are 
sometimes  spurred  by  hunger;  they  are  always  respon- 
sive to  the  appreciation  of  the  cultivated,  and  may  be  to 
the  reward. 


SOME   OF   THE   OLDER   MORALS      293 


CHAPTER  XXII 
SOME   OF  THE   OLDER   MORALS 

EXAMINATION  of  the  older  morals,  those  that  were  pro- 
duced before  1520,  reveals,  even  though  the  period  is 
comparatively  early,  a  twofold  character  of  composition. 
We  find  on  the  one  hand  plays  interpretative  of  the  ideals 
of  life  and  constructive  in  character,  relying  upon  the 
fundamentally  allegorical  and  making  principally  for  a 
didactic  end.  We  find  on  the  other  hand  plays  that  deal 
with  the  actual,  appear  to  have  a  critical  purpose,  and 
consequently  reproduce  life  and  manners.  These  tend, 
not  so  much  toward  the  ideal  in  purpose  as  toward  the 
amusing  and  satirical. 

Of  the  half  dozen  morals  before  1520  that  made  for 
the  development  of  a  drama  which  by  allegorical  means 
should  interpret  ideals  and  construct  characters,  one  of 
the  earliest  (about  1400)  and  most  important  was  the 
Castell  of  Perseverance.  In  its  use  of  virtues  and  vices  as 
dramatic  figures  it  sustains  a  close  relation  to  the  Digby 
Magdalene.  The  Pride  of  Life,1  a  moral  of  perhaps  as 
high  antiquity  as  the  preceding,  is  interesting,  not  so 
much  for  its  lofty  and  ideal  conception  as  for  the  excel- 
lence with  which  it  portrays  ingenuous  and  fundamental 

1  The  text  would  call  for  the  title  King  of  Life  ;  but  Mr.  James  Mills, 
who  discovered  the  play,  and  described  it,  April  13,  1891,  to  the  Royal 
Irish  Academy,  has  named  it  as  above.  It  is  reprinted  by  Brandl, 
Quellen  des  Weltlicben  Dramas  in  England  vor  Shakespeare,  1898. 


294      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

types  of  character,  and  conducts  a  plot  straightforward, 
tragic  and  severe,  the  natural  outgrowth  of  premises  com- 
mon to  the  play  and  to  a  contemporary  view  of  life.  In 
place  of  the  comic  in  character  and  episode,  the  play 
presents  us  with  a  Nuncius,  called  Mirth  or  Solas,  who 
sits  upon  the  king's  knee,  flatters  him  and  sings.  While 
this  figure  bears  a  resemblance,  indeed,  to  the  court  fool, 
as  Professor  Brandl  has  said,  he  appears  to  me  more 
nearly  related  to  the  herald  of  the  miracle  plays.  I 
should  not  think  that  he  could  be  in  any  way  regarded 
as  the  forerunner  of  the  Vice,1  if  it  were  not  that  the 
appellation  "Solas"  appears  to  have  been  appropriated 
by  that  personage  in  some  later  plays.  The  next  of  these 
morals  of  ideal  purpose,  The  Wisdom  that  is  Christ 
(1480  to  1490),  is  a  comedy  in  the  mediaeval  sense  of  the 
term  insomuch  as  it  portrays  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the 
hero  in  the  contest  with  evil.  The  plot  is  allegorical,  but 
the  language  and  philosophy  of  the  play  are  direct  and 
practical:  the  guise  and  behaviour  of  Lucifer,  the  gallant, 
and  Will,  the  debauchee,  are  of  mundane  flavour,  and 
allusions  to  contemporary  manners  and  localities,  "Hoi- 
born,  Powlys"  and  the  like,  abound.  On  the  whole  the 
play  makes,  however,  for  the  advancement  of  creative 
ideality;  and  in  particular  for  the  evolution  of  a  species  of 
drama  which  Udall,  Lyly  and  others  were  soon  to  bring 
to  some  degree  of  perfection,  the  masque.  For  within 
the  limits  of  artificial  drama  like  this,  it  is  into  the 
masque  that  the  continual  recourse  to  "disguising," 

1  Quellen  s.  XV.  Cf.  Solas,  in  an  Interlude  of  1540-1547,  described 
by  Halliwell  from  the  MS.  copy  of  the  notes  (Supp.  Dods.  O.  PI.  II,  Wit 
and  Wisedome,  p.  66)  —  and  Sandy  Solas,  a  vice-like  figure  in  Lyndesay's 
Three  Estates,  1 540,  upon  which  the  MS.  copy  just  referred  to  would 
seem  to  have  been  based. 


SOME   OF   THE   OLDER   MORALS     295 

almost  the  only  device  in  this  play,  naturally  ripens  ; 
while  within  the  field  of  the  romantic  play  the  same  device 
will  mature  into  the  comedy  of  intrigue. 

In  spite  of  a  vivid  satirical  scene  in  which  the  lewd  life 
and  manners  of  Holborn,  Westminster  and  Eastcheap  are 
described  by  Folly,  the  Vice  of  the  play,  the  proper,  new 
Interlude  of  Mundus  et  Infans,  printed  in  1522,  but 
written  perhaps  by  the  beginning  of  the  century,  mani- 
festly continues  the  allegorical  and  didactic  purpose  of 
its  kind.  To  the  variety  of  dramatic  means  and  methods 
it  adds  nothing,  but  to  the  inherent  technique  of  comedy 
it  makes  a  twofold  contribution:  a  representation,  crude 
to  be  sure,  but  laudable,  of  a  sequence  of  changes  in 
the  character  of  the  hero,  and  a  pleasing  iteration  of 
crises  in  the  conduct  of  the  plot ;  the  former  of  these 
potential  in  the  nature  of  the  moral  play,  the  latter  essen- 
tial to  the  differentiation  of  the  comic  movement  from 
that  of  the  tragedy.  While  the  ideal  purpose  of  the 
moral  is  nominally  prosecuted  in  the  next  play  of  this 
series,  the  "goodly  interlude  and  mery"  of  Magnyfycence, 
composed  by  Skelton  between  1515  and  1523,  the  play  is 
more  significant  for  "the  vigour  and  vivacity  of  diction" 
to  which  Dr.  Ward  has  already  called  attention,  than  for 
its  allegorical  treatment  of  "Vaynglory"  and  its  some- 
what mechanical  attempts  at  comic  realism.  I  wish  that 
we  could  still  consider  at  first  hand  another  play  of  the 
same  poet,  The  Nigramansir,  written  somewhat  earlier, 
for  by  its  attack  upon  ecclesiastical  abuses  it  is  said  to 
have  contributed  much  to  the  development  of  satirical 
comedy.  But  our  knowledge  of  the  play  is  indirect.1 

1  Warton,  History  of  English  Poetry,  II,  360,  describes  it;  but  it  has 
disappeared.  The  plot  seems  to  have  had  nothing  in  common  with 
Ariosto's  Negromante  of  I  520,  which  is  rather  of  the  style  of  The  Bugbears 
(1561-1584). 


296     PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

One  character,  Beelzebub  the  judge,  is  reported  to  have 
been  not  only  the  most  clownish  and  concrete  of  devils 
up  to  date,  but  the  mainspring  of  the  play,  and  an 
important  factor  in  the  motivation  of  the  plot. 

In  excellence  of  construction  and  stern  nobility  of  pur- 
pose the  Moralle  Playe  of  the  Somonynge  of  Evtry-man 
leaves  all  its  contemporaries  behind.  The  fable,  as  Dr. 
Percy  has  said,  is  conducted  upon  the  strictest  model 
of  the  Greek  tragedy,  and  for  severity  it  may  be  likened 
to  the  Samson  Agonistes.  It  is  justly  called  by  Collier 
"one  of  the  most  perfect  allegories  ever  formed,"  and  by 
Ward,  "the  flower  and  crown  of  the  literary  species  to 
which  it  belongs."  Printed  before  1531,  but  of  uncertain 
date  of  composition,1  it  is  of  importance  in  the  present 
survey  as  indicating  the  possibilities  of  a  technique  which, 
though  dealing  with  abstractions,  may  imbue  them  with 
the  interest  of  steady  and  progressive  movement.  It  pre- 
pares the  way,  in  other  words,  for  the  development  of 
character  other  than  the  painfully  pious  or  foolishly  ludi- 
crous, and  for  sober  contemplation  not  only  of  the  mortal 
issues  but  of  the  artistic  possibilities  afforded  by  them  to 
the  creative  imagination.  Like  the  moral  plays  of  Nature, 
Hyckescorner  and  Four  Elements,  it  dispenses  with  the 
Devil.  It  manages  to  get  along  also  without  any  specified 
representative  of  the  Vice,  —  unless  Fellowship,  Goodes, 
etc.,  may  have  been  intended  as  such. 

Besides  these  morals  of  constructive  and  ideal  content 
there  were  a  few  written  before  1520  that  contributed  to 

1  Collier  and  Brandl  conjecture  before  1483  ;  Ward,  a  later  date: 
his  account  of  the  Latin  sources  —  perhaps  the  Legenda  Aurea  and  Speculum 
Hiitoriale,  more  surely  the  Barlaam  and  Jehoshaphat  (1090) — is  to  be 
found  in  Hist.  E.  Dr.  Lit.,  I,  120.  Logeman  regards  Everyman  as  a 
translation  of  the  Dutch  play  Elckerlijk  by  Petrus  Dorlandus. 


Characters  in  "Hycke-Scorner" 
From  "The  Ancient  British  Drama" 


SOME   OF   THE   OLDER   MORALS     297 

the  comedy  of  real  life.  Three  I  have  mentioned  in 
the  last  paragraph;  the  other  is  called  Mankynd.  For  a 
full  description  of  them  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  my 
Representative  English  Comedies.1  Suffice  it  here  to  say 
that,  though  they  pretend  to  a  serious  purpose,  not  one 
of  them  could  have  achieved  success  —  and  they  were  all 
successful  without  doubt  —  on  any  other  basis  than  that 
of  comic  quality.  Mankynd  has  its  Vices  and  Devil,  and 
its  allegorical  figures  like  Mercie  and  MyschefF;  but  the 
Devil  is  merry,  the  Vices  are  witty,  the  human  characters 
interesting  rascals  and  the  Virtues  a  bore.  The  language 
savours  more  of  the  tavern  than  the  tabernacle.  This 
play  was  written  between  1461  and  1485  ;  the  next, 
Nature,  between  1486  and  1500.  It  was  written  by  one 
of  Archbishop  Morton's  chaplains,  Henry  Medwall,  and 
displays  a  startling  accuracy  of  information  concern- 
ing the  Bohemian  purlieus  or  "tenderloin"  of  London. 
If  it  were  n't  for  Medwall's  sense  of  humour  one  might 
suspect  him  of  more  than  altruistic  and  artistic  interest 
in  the  slums.  To  the  next  of  these  "moral"  interludes 
a  Vice,  Hyckescorner,  gives  his  name.  It  was  written 
between  1497  and  1512  ;  and  is  more  of  a  comedy,  in 
dialogue  and  situation,  in  spite  of  occasional  tediosities 
of  spiritual  pabulum,  than  the  chaplain's  play.  The  Four 
Elements,  printed  by  its  author,  John  Rastell,  in  1519, 
tries  to  teach  physics,  but  leaves  in  the  memory  an  im- 
pression only  of  stale  beer  and  tavern-wit,  and  tags  of 
popular  songs. 

The  older  morals,  whether  serious  or  satirical,  made, 
after  all,  a  certain  advance  upon  the  usual  technique  of 
the  miracles.  They  took  their  dramatis  persons  not  from 
books  but  out  of  life.  And  though  they  called  these  char- 

1  Pp.  Ivii-lxi. 


298     PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

acters  by  abstract  or  generic  names  they  tried  to  distinguish 
each  from  the  rest  by  a  motive  of  action.  The  more  the 
motive  lived  the  more  the  character  grew.  This  kind  of 
play  is,  therefore,  the  forerunner  of  Ben  Jonson's  comedy 
of  humours.  It  offered  scope  to  the  imagination,  as  well 
as  the  observation,  of  the  dramatist  :  the  more  he  forgot 
his  pedagogic  purpose  the  more  his  characters  came  to 
be  like  persons,  his  manners  to  be  contemporary,  and 
his  plot  vital  and  inwardly  propulsive,  possessed  of  the 
elasticity,  novelty  and  finality  requisite  to  art. 


SURVIVALS   OF   THE   MORAL         299 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

LESS-KNOWN   SURVIVALS   OF   THE   MORAL 
INTERLUDE 

THE  farces  and  romantic  interludes,  concluding  with 
the  earliest  of  our  plays  of  romantic  intrigue,  the  Calisto 
and  Melibaea,  "caused  to  be  printed"  by  John  Rastell, 
about  1530,  and  the  school  interludes  which  characterised 
the  period  between  the  older  morals  and  the  first  regular 
dramas,  I  have  described  at  such  length  in  my  Beginnings 
of  English  Comedy,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  consider 
them  here.  It  may  be  said,  however,  that  of  the  school 
plays  the  most  important  to  the  development  of  English 
drama  were  the  "Mirth"  interludes,  like  the  Thersytes; 
the  "Wit"  interludes,  like  The  Contract  of  a  Marriage  be- 
tween Wit  and  Wisdome,  and  a  revision  of  some  ten  years' 
later  date,  The  Marriage  of  Witte  and  Science,  both  of 
them  marked  by  rapidity  of  movement,  diversity  of  persons 
and  naturalness  of  conversation  ;  the  "Youth"  interludes, 
which  reach  their  climax  in  the  Interlude  of  Youth;  and 
finally  the  "Prodigal  Son"  plays,  which  were  patterned 
upon  Terence  and  certain  Dutch  school  plays  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Acolastus  of  Gnapheus,  1529.  The  best  ex- 
amples of  the  English  interlude  of  the  "Prodigal"  are  The 
Nice  Wanton  and  The  Disobedient  Child.  The  period  of 
these  school  plays  was  from  1530  to  1553. 

About   the   time   that  the   first    regular    dramas   were 
written,  —  polytypic,  or  fusion,  dramas  like  Ferrex  and 


300      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Porrexj  Roister  Doister,  The  Historie  of  Jacob  and  Esau, 
Gammer  Gurton,  Misogonus,  Damon  and  Pithias,  and  The 
Supposes y  —  that  is  to  say  between  1545  and  1566,  there 
were  still  coming  to  the  birth  a  few  interludes  or  morals 
of  the  older  kind  which  I  should  like  to  describe  because 
they  are  usually  ignored  in  the  lump,  as  if  unworthy  of 
attention  in  every  particular.  Though  some  of  these 
belated  morals  were  stupid,  others  have  as  much  right 
to  a  place  in  literature  as  certain  of  their  contemporaries 
which  were  more  lucky  in  catching  the  eye  of  the  early 
historian. 

CONTROVERSIAL  PLAYS 

The  stupidities  among  them  I  shall  merely  mention. 
They  are  controversial  interludes:  First,  the  "new  enter- 
lude  of  N ewe  Custome,"  an  anti-Papist  play  which,  though 
not  printed  till  1573,  was  produced  about  1562  to  1563, 
and  written  perhaps  as  early  as  1550  to  1553.  It  presents 
no  novel  dramatic  feature  save  that,  instead  of  the  Vice, 
two  rufflers  appear,  who  supply  the  only  humour  in  the 
disputation.  The  second  of  this  series  is  a  "mery  Playe 
bothe  py thy  and  pleasaunt"  of  dlbion  Knight,1  a  political 
fragment  acted  between  1560  and  1565.  Though  its  sub- 
ject is  the  ever-interesting  dissension  between  the  estates 
of  the  realm,  and  its  rhetoric  unusually  blunt,  it  is  not 
dramatically  up  to  the  level  of  Respublica.  The  element 
of  concrete  and  personal  interest  is  lacking;  and  the  comic 
interest  centers  solely  about  the  Vice,  Injurie.  He,  with 
his  "olde  mate,"  Dyvysion,  and  their  instruments,  Double 
Devyce  and  Old  Debate,  forms  the  mischief-making  group 
of  the  drama:  a  signally  effective  group,  indeed,  whose 
chief,  a  clever,  disputatious  and  satirical  personage,  is  the 

1  S.  R.  1565-6.     See  also  Collier,  H.  Dram.  Poetry,  II,  284. 


SURVIVALS   OF  THE   MORAL        301 

mainspring  of  such  action  as  appears.  The  controversial 
element  is  not  far  to  seek  in  the  third  play  of  this  division, 
a  peculiarly  insipid  disputation  called  Kyng  Daryus, 
printed  in  1565.  The  Vice,  Iniquytie,  calls  himself  the 
son  of  the  Pope,  and,  when  discomfited,  departs  "  to  the 
south  to  seek  his  fortune."  In  spite  of  the  coarse  and 
feeble  quality  of  the  comic,  a  certain  distinction  attaches 
to  the  interlude  because  of  its  twofold  thread  of  interest. 
The  strands,  however,  lack  all  connection.  Here,  again, 
the  Vice  and  his  two  associates,  occupying  the  greater  part 
of  the  production,  dominate  the  play.  Indeed,  the  Vice, 
influencing  the  major  or  the  minor  action,  and  sometimes 
both,  and  thus  uniting  the  interests  of  the  fable,  has,  dur- 
ing the  years  of  which  we  have  just  treated,  steadily  pro- 
gressed from  a  negative  if  not  subordinate  position  to  that 
of  manipulator  or  comic  individual  as  well  as  marplot. 
It  will  also  be  noticed  that,  while  in  the  earlier  moral 
plays  the  Vice's  ridicule  rebounds  upon  himself,  because 
directed  chiefly  at  individuals  not  obnoxious  to  ridicule 
but  dignified  and  conscious  of  ultimate  vindication,  —  in 
Daryus  and  plays  of  its  like,  he  advances  artistically  as 
well  as  satirically.  This  is  because  here  the  Vice  makes 
fun  of  the  pretensions  of  his  own  worthless  associates. 
Comedy  has  learned  a  lesson  of  social  importance  when 
she  turns  her  weapons,  at  last,  against  those  who  are  de- 
servedly objects  of  derision  or  contempt.  Somewhat  more 
virile  is  the  remaining  play  of  this  group.  Like  Bale's 
King  Johan,  the  Conflict  of  Conscience,  by  Nathaniell 
Woodes,  Minister  in  Norwich,  presents  a  peculiar  mix- 
ture of  individual  and  historical  characters  with  figures 
of  mere  abstraction.  The  real  subject  of  this  con- 
troversial drama,  Francis  Spiera,  had  committed  sui- 
cide, about  1550,  in  remorse  for  his  conversion  to  Roman 


302      PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

Catholicism.  Woodes*  play,  though  not  published  until 
1581,  was  probably  written  soon  after  1563. *  It  stands 
midway  between  the  allegorical  interlude  and  the  drama 
of  concrete  experience,  and  at  first  sight  seems  worthy  of 
the  praise  accorded  to  a  worthy  innovation.  But  it  is 
not:  for  though  the  author  makes  a  laudable  profession 
of  raising  his  subject  from  the  particular  to  the  universal, 
he  succeeds  only  in  theologising;  and  though  he  calls  his 
production  an  "excellent  new  commedie,"  it  is  that  only 
by  virtue  of  the  narrated  repentance  of  the  "apostate" 
before  his  death.  Still  there  is  something  of  originality 
and  amusement  in  one  or  two  of  the  episodes,  and  in  the 
colloquies  of  the  Vice  and  his  associates.  There  is  also 
a  commendable  realism  in  the  portraiture  of  the  priest, 
Caconos.  With  his  Scottish  dialect,  and  his  portace  illu- 
minated to  offset  the  imperfection  of  his  reading  faculty, 
he  is,  I  think,  the  earliest  burlesque  of  the  ecclesiastical 
ignoramus  in  English  comedy.  The  author  shows  skill 
in  the  development  of  his  characters,  and  is  betrayed,  at 
times,  into  poetry  of  a  technique  and  style  almost  as 
charming  as  that  of  the  best  portions  of  the  Manage  of 
Witte  and  Science. 

ARTISTIC  VARIATIONS  OF  THE  STOCK 

Of  the  decadent  stock  of  moralities  and  interludes, 
there  are,  as  I  have  said,  a  few  specimens,  be- 
tween t4ie  years  1553  and  1578,  that  exhibit  a  decided 
advance  in  quality,  even  if  not  in  kind.2  Three  of  these, 
The  Longer  thou  Livest,  All  for  Money  and  Tyde  Taryeth 
no  Mant  Mr.  Fleay3  lumps  together  as  simple  instances 

1  When  Sicilian's  French  account  of  Speira  appeared  in  Geneva  ; 
Collier,  in  H.  Dods.  VI. 

8  Rep.  Engl.  Com.,  Ixxxvi,  from  which  this  paragraph  is  taken. 
•  Hist.  St.,  p.  66. 


ARTISTIC   VARIATIONS  303 

of  the  survival  of  the  older  "morality"  after  the  introduc- 
tion of  tragedy  and  comedy  on  the  models  of  Seneca  and 
Plautus,  and  makes  the  further  statement  that  none  of 
them  teaches  us  anything  as  to  the  historical  develop- 
ment of  the  drama  in  England.  With  the  utmost  respect 
for  the  knowledge  of  this  often  helpful  historian,  I  must 
say  that  as  a  matter  of  judgment,  none  of  these  dramas, 
least  of  all  Longer  thou  Livest,  should  be  classed  with 
the  moral  plays  of  mere  survival.  While  the  authors  of 
these  and  similar  specimens  did  not  produce  a  new  kind, 
they  did  more  than  repeat  the  old.  They  revived  and 
enriched  the  moral  interlude  by  infusion  of  new  strains, 
and  so  produced,  by  culture,  a  most  interesting  group  of 
what  may  be  called  variations  of  the  moral.  To  this 
class  of  morals  belong  also  the  Triall  of  Treasure,  Like 
wil  to  Like  and  the  Life  and  Repentaunce  of  Marie  Mag- 
dalene. It  must  be  said  also  that  a  few  moral  tragedies 
of  the  period  like  R.  B.'s  Apius  and  Firginia  (about 
1563,  printed  1575),  and  Preston's  King  Cambises  (S.  R. 
1569  to  1570),  have  some  claim  to  belong  to  this  group, 
and  that  if  there  were  space  they  should  receive  attention 
for  their  vital  dramatic  quality  and  their  development  of 
the  character  of  the  Vice.  The  Hap-hazard  of  the  former 
far  from  being,  as  Dr.  Ward  has  said,  "redundant  to  the 
action,"  suggests  the  "conspiracie"  which  Apius  adopts, 
and  is  the  heart  of  rascality  and  fun;  he  is  consequently 
a  Vice  of  the  old  type  ;  but  he  is,  also,  the  representative 
(in  accordance  with  his  name  and  express  profession)  of 
the  caprice  of  the  individual  and  the  irony  of  fortune. 
He  is  the  Vice,  efficient  for  evil,  but  in  process  of  evolu- 
tion into  the  Inclinations  or  Humours  of  a  somewhat  later 
period  of  dramatic  history:  conceptions  not  immoral  but 
unmoral,  artistic  impersonations  of  comic  extravagance, 


304      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

where  Every  Man  is  in  his  Vice,  and  every  Vice  is  but 
a  Humour.  The  Ambidexter  of  the  latter  tragedy  plays 
"with  both  hands  finely"  in  the  main  action,  and  at  the 
same  time  serves  to  provoke  the  jocosity  of  those  admir- 
ably concrete  ruffians,  Huf,  Ruf  and  Snuf,  and  of  the 
clown  of  the  play.  The  Horestes*  written  by  John 
Pikerynge  in  1567,  must  also  be  mentioned  here.  The 
Vice  under  his  dual  designation  of  Corage  and  Revenge 
is  of  the  weathervane  variety;  and  in  realistic  and  hu- 
morous qualities  the  play  closely  resembles  the  preceding 
two.  They  were  a  noble  but  futile  effort  to  bottle  the 
juices  of  tragedy,  classical-historical  at  that,  in  the  leath- 
ers of  moral  interlude. 

Of  the  comedy-interludes  of  this  group  the  first  in 
chronological  order  would  appear  to  be  Tyde  Taryeth  no 
Man.  It  was  compiled  by  George  Wapull  and  printed 
in  I576,2  and  calls  itself  a  "commody  right  pythie  and 
full  of  delight."  Collier  thinks  that  the  character  of  the 
play  indicates  a  considerably  earlier  date  of  authorship. 
The  religious  tone  is  of  the  established  reformation,  not 
at  all  controversial;  but  the  references  to  the  "Prince" 
(instead  of  Queen)  can  hardly  be  explained  as  abstract 
or  generic.  It  therefore  may  have  been  written  before 
1553.  While  there  is  nothing  new  in  the  conception, 
and  the  unity  of  the  plot  lies  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the 
Vice,  who  devotes  himself  to  illustrating  the  truth  of  the 
proverbial  title,  the  movement  is  noteworthy  because  it 
develops  no  less  than  three  parallel  actions:  the  ruin  of  a 

1  Brit.  Mus.,C.  34.g;  Collier's  Illustr.  OldEngl.  Lit., II,  2.  Brandl's 
Quellen. 

9  Nothing  known  of  Wapull.  The  play  is  in  Br.  Mus.,  C.  34.  f. 
45  ;  also  in  Duke  of  Devonshire's  Library.  Repr.  Collier,  E.  E.  Pof. 
Lit.,  Vol.  II,  London,  1863-64. 


ARTISTIC  VARIATIONS  305 

tenant  by  oppression,  the  failure  of  a  courtier  in  his  vain 
ambition,  and  the  career  of  two  prodigals,  Wilfull  Wanton 
and  Wastefulness.  The  conclusion  gathers  these  three 
threads  into  one,  and  metes  out  poetical  justice  to  the 
dramatis  persona.  In  the  first  movement,  the  character  of 
No-Good-Neighbourhood  notably  anticipates  the  Nychol- 
Know-the-Law  of  Lupton's  All  for  Money;  in  the  second, 
the  hero,  Willing-to-win- Worship,  anticipates  the  Perin  of 
Knack  to  Know  a  Knave  and  the  Radagon  of  Greene  and 
Lodge's  Looking  Glass ;  the  third  movement  is  a  crude 
treatment  of  the  Magdalene  theme.  The  dramatic  means 
are,  like  the  conception,  old;  but  the  Vice  and  the  local 
characters,  tenaunt,  debtor,  courtier,  prodigals,  though 
generic,  are  concrete  and  well  portrayed.  Corage  (Vice, 
marplot  and  jester),  with  his  rollicking  songs  of  the  barge 
that  he  steers  to  hell,  is  the  dramatic  main-spring,  the 
comic  individual,  if  not  the  hero.  The  character  of  Fur- 
theraunce,  who  makes  his  interest  out  of  oppressor  and 
oppressed  alike,  is  conducted  with  no  ordinary  skill; 
likewise  that  of  Greediness  the  landlord,  —  a  forerunner 
of  the  Lucres,  Overreaches  and  Suckdrys,  who  ends  his 
days  "in  a  great  madnesse"  and  sails  "with  the  tyde 
boat  straight  into  Hell."  The  play,  therefore,  though  a 
survival,  is  of  cardinal  importance  since  it  combines 
motives  sufficient  for  three  kinds  of  moral  interlude,  sug- 
gests the  drama  of  parallel  action,  and  interweaves  the 
comic  and  the  grave,  while  it  exemplifies  abstract  princi- 
ples with  a  width  of  reach  decidedly  remarkable,  by  means 
of  characters  on  the  one  hand  native  and  social,  on  the 
other  typical. 

The  "new  and  mery"  interlude  of  The  Trial  of 
Treasure,  printed  1567,  but  probably  written  some  years 
before,  is  directed  against  the  love  of  wealth,  and  is  no 

20 


3o6      PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

less  didactic  than  its  predecessors.  But  though  confined 
within  the  usual  limits  of  the  moral  interlude,  it  possesses 
characteristics  of  some  novelty  and  promise.  The  serious 
and  comic  actions  are  consolidated,  and  the  characters 
are  arrayed  in  contrasted  pairs,  as  in  Like  will  to  Like 
and  Damon  and  Pithias.  The  saintly  hero  and  heroine 
and  their  worldly  counterparts  are  well  portrayed.  The 
Lady  Trust  is  one  of  our  earliest  specimens  of  the  gra- 
cious, highminded,  and,  still  not  impossible,  woman  ;  and 
Just  is  an  example,  not  quite  so  novel,  but  well  intended, 
of  the  muscular  Christian,  unswerving  in  constancy.  While 
the  plot  turns  upon  the  relations  of  the  worldly  pair,  those 
of  the  unworldly  furnish  the  imagination  with  materials 
for  a  sequel.  The  characters  are,  generally  speaking,  con- 
crete in  action  if  not  in  name  ;  and  especially  life-like  are 
the  amusing,  fat  blackguard,  Greedy-Gut,  and  the  Vice, 
Inclination.  The  latter  is  distinctively  of  the  mischief- 
making  variety;  he  eggs  on  the  victim,  but  also  ridi- 
cules him  in  his  embarrassment  and  prophesies  his 
destruction.  He  does  not  deserve  to  be  severely  punished; 
and  so  the  author  merely  "snaffles"  him  as  one  should 
snaffle  any  irresponsible,  and  as  Porter,  Shakespeare, 
Chapman  and  Jonson,  in  the  coming  age,  snaffled  the 
undue  "humours"  of  their  dramatis  personce. 

In  spite  of  Ulpian  Fulwell's  laudable  attempt  at  riding 
two  horses  in  the  "very  godly  and  mirthful  enterlude  in- 
tituled Like  wil  to  Like  quod  the  Devel  to  the  Colier"  he 
does  not  much  impress  us  with  the  disaster  to  which  his 
"ruffins  and  roisters  are  brought."  The  play  was  printed 
in  1568,  but  acted,  Mr.  Fleay  thinks,  as  early  as  I562.1 

1  Bodl.  Malonc,  qto.;  H.  Dods.  Vol.  III.  See  Fleay,  Hist.  St., 
pp.  59—6 1 ,  for  his  theory  of  its  connection  with  Misogontts,  Roister  Doister, 
and  Damon  and  Pitbias. 


ARTISTIC  VARIATIONS  307 

Though  it  is,  in  fact,  little  more  than  a  farce,  it  acquires 
a  certain  distinction  as  one  of  the  few  interludes  posses- 
sing both  Devil  and  Vice,  and  the  only  play  extant  of 
the  kind  in  which  the  latter  is  conveyed  to  hell  by  the 
former.  Nichol  Newfangle,  comic  hero  as  well  as  Vice, 
fulfils  the  purpose  of  the  plot  by  pairing  off  characters 
of  his  kidney:  Lucifer,  with  Grim  the  Collier,  Tom  Tosspot 
with  Ralph  Roister,  Hankin  Hangman  with  himself.  The 
contrasted  pairing  of  virtuous  abstractions  is  also  not- 
able, for  every  such  attempt  at  classification  indicates  a 
step  forward  in  the  analysis  of  character;  but  the  shred  of 
serious  action  itself  is  of  slight  importance  beside  the 
comic,  and  not  affected  by  it.  In  this  play,  again,  the 
Vice  is  the  most  important  personage:  his  rapport  with 
the  audience,  his  skill  in  burlesque,  —  the  liturgy  to  the 
Devil,  and  the  sham  court,  —  his  repertory  of  comic 
tricks,  mimicries  and  witty  responses,  distinguish  him 
as  one  of  the  most  varied  and  original  of  his  class. 
In  versatility  he  must  be  ranked  with  Idelness  of 
the  Contract  of  Wit  and  Wisdome.  As  mischief-maker, 
indeed,  and  consequently  as  motive  force  of  the 
action,  he  is  unusually  inventive.  The  Vice  of  The 
Trial  of  Treasure  seduces,  and  in  Mephistophelian  vein 
derides,  the  Nichol  Newfangle  of  this  play  informs 
against  his  dupes  as  well,  and  even  puts  the  halter 
round  their  necks  when  he  can.  Though  he  is  roundly 
drubbed  by  two  of  them,  and  borne  by  Lucifer  to 
the  place  where  he  belongs,  he  is  treated  rather 
as  a  source  of  merriment  than  as  a  vicious  character. 
It  is  a  grim  kind  of  merriment,  however,  and  must 
have  impressed  the  spectators  to  an  unusual  degree 
with  the  irony  of  lawlessness,  for  of  that  Nichol  is 
the  incarnation. 


308       PLAYS  OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

The  Life  and  Repentaunce  of  Marie  Magdalene*  by  the 
learned  clarke  Lewes  Wager,  printed  1566,  is  an  excellent 
example  of  dramatic  experiment  in  the  fusion  of  kinds. 
Based,  as  the  author  tells  us,  on  Luke  vii  and  viii,  the 
indebtedness  of  the  play  to  scriptural  story  is  still  but 
slight,  and  that  only  in  the  Second  Part.  Of  the  mediae- 
val legend,  which  underlies  the  Digby  Magdalene,  no 
dramatic  use  is  made.  Under  the  disguise  of  the  title,  we 
discover  a  Protestant  "new  enterlude,"  of  the  prodigal,  in 
many  respects  as  natural  and  entertaining  as  The  Nice 
Wanton,  or  the  Acolastus  of  the  continental  humanist. 
Like  all  survivals  of  the  decadent  stock,  it  is  furnished 
with  the  agencies  of  the  moral  interlude  —  the  Vice  and 
his  accessories,  all  children  of  "Sathan,"  and  the  usual 
chorus  of  allegorical  sermonisers,  —  but  it  moves  in  a  rich 
environment  of  contemporary  customs  and  costumes. 
Few  plays  of  its  date,  and  of  a  didactic  purpose,  present 
characters  so  well  constructed  and  consistently  developed. 
Mary,  who  enters  "triflyng  with  her  garmentes"  and  be- 
wailing the  misfit  of  her  gown,  is  all  the  more  convincing 
because  not  from  the  first  an  abandoned  character.  She 
is  a  demonstration  of  the  proverb,  Terentian  in  spirit, 
but  enunciated  by  the  Vice  himself — Puellce  pestis,  in- 
dulgentia  parentum.  She  has  merely  not  been  disciplined. 
Her  replies  to  the  double-entendres  of  the  seducer  are 
unsophisticated  and  girlish.  Infidelie  gets  the  better  of 
her,  of  course;  but  it  is  only  gradually  that  she  is  in- 

1  Edited  from  the  qto.,  probably  unique,  in  the  library  of  Mr.  W.  A. 
White,  of  New  York,  by  Professor  F.  I.  Carpenter  (Publ.  of  Univ. 
Chicago  Press)  with  excellent  Introduction,  Notes,  and  Glossary.  Copies 
of  a  second  edition,  essentially  a  reissue  of  the  I  566  but  dated  I  567,  are 
to  be  found  in  Br.  Mus.,  C.  34.  e.  36.  qto.  Carpenter  dates  the  com- 
position as  early  as  1550,  and  Brandl  1547.  But  their  reasons  seem 
hardly  conclusive. 


ARTISTIC  VARIATIONS  309 

structed  in  evil,  and  only  by  suffering  and  repentance  that 
she  is  reformed.  She  is  the  most  natural  and  interesting 
girl  of  dramatic  fiction  at  the  date  of  which  we  are  speak- 
ing, —  not  saint,  nor  devil,  nor  abstraction,  —  a  creature 
of  flesh  and  blood,  but  of  charm  by  no  means  only 
physical.  She  has  a  wit  and  a  style.  The  conversations 
in  which  she  figures  are  facile  and  vivid.  Her  companions 
are  blackguards  ;  but  the  poet  who  imagined  them  holds 
her  in  poetic  regard.  She  stirs  him.  There  are  few 
sprightlier  songs  in  our  early  drama  than  the 

Hoigh,  Mistresse  Mary,  I  pray  you  be  mery,  — 

few  heroines  of  whom  we  retain  so  clear  a  mental 
impression;  her  "pretie  person,"  her  "golden  shyning 
haire,"  her  "  eyes  as  gray  as  glasse,"  her  "  smylyng 
countenance,"  — 

Your  lyps  as  ruddy  as  the  redde  Rose, 

Your  teeth  as  white  as  ever  was  the  wales  bone 
So  cleane,  so  swete,  so  fayre,  so  good,  so  freshe,  so  gay. 

The  author  has  devised  his  First  Part  with  such  cunning 
that  his  audience  could  not  but  sit  through  the  scriptural 
and  doctrinal  moral  of  the  Second;  if  for  no  other  reason 
than  to  discover  whether  the  winsome  lass  should  by  any 
chance  fail  to  be  justified  by  faith.1  The  varied  qualities 
of  this  play  had  inclined  me  to  place  it  in  the  group 
called  polytypic;  but  since,  like  the  play  which  we  shall 
next  consider,  it  is  historically  important  rather  as  fusing 
different  species  of  the  didactic  type  into  one  than  as 
attempting  to  assimilate  the  type  to  the  wholly  secular 
farce,  comedy  of  intrigue,  romance  and  the  like,  the 
present  arrangement  seems  the  more  satisfactory. 

1  The  author  became  Rector  of  Garlickhithe,  March  28,  1560.  Car- 
penter, Introd.t  p.  xiv. 


3io       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

Collier  dates  the  "very  merry  and  pythie  Commedie 
called  The  Longer  thou  Livest,  the  more  Foole  thou  Art" 
newly  compiled  by  W.  Wager l  (probably  a  relative  of 
Lewis),  soon  after  I558.2  The  limits  of  its  publication, 
however,  are  1567  to  1594;  and  Mr.  Fleay's  surmise  of 
1571  to  1576  as  the  period  of  writing  is,  I  think,  confirmed 
by  the  passage  in  the  play  which  begins 

God  preserve  London,  that  noble  citie 

Where  they  have  taken  a  godly  ordre  for  a  truth. 

This  probably  refers  to  some  of  the  "Orders"  or  the 
"Remedies"  concerning  stage  performances  proposed, 
J575  to  X5?6>  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation,  and 
indicates  that  W.  Wager  was  in  sympathy  with  the  re- 
pressive policy  of  the  Common  Council. 

The  title-page  and  prologue  indicate  that  this  "com- 
medie"  combines  the  purposes  of  the  "youth"  and  "wit" 
interludes:  to  portray  "such  as  had  lever  to  Folly  and 
Idlenes  fall."  The  plot  itself  presents  in  addition  features 
of  the  "prodigal"  play,  like  the  Nice  Wanton  ("as  one 
bringeth  up  his  children  ...  so  shall  he  have  them  "), 
and  of  the  moral-history  of  man's  career,  like  Mundus 
et  Infans.  In  addition  to  all  this,  opportunity  is  taken  to 
root  out  Antichrist.  The  play,  therefore,  combines  quali- 
ties of  some  half-dozen  kinds  of  moral  interlude  ;  and 
this  it  does  with  a  skill  and  vivacity  displayed  by  few  of 

1  Qtp.  in  Br.  Mus.,  C.  34,  e.  37,  Hunter  (Chorus  Vatum  Anglica- 
norum,  Br.  Mus.  24,  491,  Add.  MSS.  24,  491,  p.  90)  conjectures  the 
identity  of  W.  Wager  with  Dr.  W.  Gager  of  Oxford,  who  is  put  down 
by  Meres  as  "among  the  best  for  comedy  "  ;  but  if  the  play  was  written 
before  I  576,  it  is  not  likely  that  Wager  was  Gager,  for  the  latter  did  not 
enter  Christ  Church  till  1574,  and  would  presumably  have  been  too 
young  for  such  a  composition  as  this. 

8  Halliwell  says  1568-9;  Hazlitt,  1581. 


ARTISTIC  VARIATIONS  311 

its  predecessors.  The  leading  character,  Moros,  whose 
songs  hang  together  like  "fethers  in  the  winde,"  must 
not  be  mistaken  for  a  Vice.  His  companions,  Idleness, 
Incontinence  and  their  set  are  self-confessed  Vices,  and 
they  endow  him  with  the  insignia  of  that  role,  but  he  is 
still  designated  "as  starke  an  Idiot  as  ever  bore  bable"; 
and  it  is  as  such  that  he  is  finally  provided  with  the  fool's 
coat  and,  as  a  fool,  not  a  Vice,  borne  by  Confusion  to 
the  Devil.  He  is  what  his  name  implies,  a  cross  be- 
tween Vice  and  Fool,  and  on  this  account,  is  historically 
a  most  instructive  character:  a  concrete  figure  in  whom 
qualities  of  Vice,  waggish  knave,  and  counterfeit-simple 
or  crank,  are  manifest  in  transition  toward  the  role  of 
jester  and  comic  hero.  The  interlude  is,  in  several  other 
respects,  interesting:  the  animus  is  anti-Papist,  the  con- 
ception academic;  but  the  social  environment,  as  of  the 
hero's  menage,  with  its  Sir  Anthony  Arrogant,  auditor,  — 
Gregory  Gorbely,  the  goutie,  —  Nicholl  Never-thrift,  the 
notary,  —  and  Nell  and  Nan  of  the  "thacked  house," 

—  is,   after   all,  of  appropriate  native  quality.     The  life 
of  the  piece  lies  mostly  in  the  "  footes "  of  songs  and  the 
songs   themselves   decantated   by  the  hero,  —  "I  have  a 
pretty  titmouse   come  pricking  on  my  to,"  and  the  rest 

—  a  device  which  however  was  not  new.     Rastell,  in  the 
Four  Elements,  and   I   suppose  many  another  since  then, 
had  used  it.       Beside  the    suggestion  of  "humours"   in 
the  list  of  the  Fool's  officials,  and  the  peculiarities  already 
mentioned,  the  play  does  not  much  advance  the  methods 
of  comedy.     In  some  details,  as  of  diction  and  doctrine, 
it  resembles  the  Magdalene  of  Lewis  Wager;  maybe  in 
versatility  of  comic  power  it  excels  that  play.     So  Pro- 
fessor Carpenter   maintains.     But  in   other   qualities, — 
in   lyric  touch,  ease  of  dialogue,  and  general  technique, 


312       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

and  in  the  artistic  relish  of  naughtiness,  —  William 
Wager's  dramatic  output  cannot  compare  with  that  of 
Lewis. 

Another  belated,  and  therefore  unconsidered,  specimen 
of  the  "prodigal  son"  play  is  the  "tragical  comedy  en- 
tituled  The  Glasse  of  Government,"  by  George  Gascoigne. 
Though  not  printed  until  some  fifteen  years  after  the 
publication  of  the  principal  dramas  of  its  class  —  The 
Nice  Wanton  and  The  Disobedient  Child  —  this  play  is 
at  once  the  most  representative  and  original  of  English 
attempts  to  connect  for  the  stage  "Terentian  situations 
with  a  Christian  moral  in  a  picture  of  school  life."  The 
best  known  English  interludes  of  the  prodigal  son  were 
patterned  after  continental  models  of  the  early  sixteenth 
century,  the  Asotus  of  Macropedius  and  his  Rebelles,  the 
Studentes  of  Stymmelius,  and  especially  the  Acolastus  of 
Gnapheus,  which,  through  Palsgrave's  English  translation 
of  1540,  exerted  a  long  enduring  influence.  Earlier  still, 
before  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  ideal  of  the 
Christian  Terence  school  had  found  expression  in  French 
moralites,  —  the  Bien-Avise  et  Mal-Avise,  les  Enfants  de 
Maintenant  and  so  forth.  From  some  of  its  continental 
and  most  of  its  English  predecessors,  Gascoigne's  play  is 
distinguished  by  the  fact  that  it  is  a  Calvinistic,  not  Roman 
Catholic,  adaptation  of  the  humanist  experiment  of  in- 
struction by  the  stage,  and  that  instead  of  Latin  or 
English  verse  it  uses  (like  the  author's  early  comedy, 
The  Supposes}  plain  vernacular  prose.  The  plot,  too, 
of  The  Glasse  of  Government  is  fresh  and  vigorous,  and 
I  think,  original.  The  value  of  the  play  is  further  en- 
hanced by  its  double  ending;  it  is  a  genuine  "tragical 
comedy,"  for  while  the  righteous  are  rewarded,  the  un- 
godly reap  the  wages  of  their  sin. 


ARTISTIC   VARIATIONS  313 

A  last  survival  of  the  older  stock  remains  to  consider: 
All  for  Money,  written  by  T.  Lupton,  and  published  in 
I578.1  It  calls  itself  a  "moral  and  pitieful  Comedie"; 
but  of  the  pathos  most  pitifully  fails.  It  is  a  morality  for 
grown-ups;  Protestant,  but  not  markedly  controversial. 
Collier  refuses  it  the  title  of  comedy,  but  it  surely  de- 
serves some  such  credit  for  the  comedy-plot,  though  in 
skeleton,  by  which  it  illustrates  the  influence  of  avarice 
upon  the  interests  and  classes  of  society.  Again,  as  in 
the  Tyde  and  other  plays  already  noticed,  we  find  that 
the  plot  is  controlled  by  a  Vice,  who  manipulates  both 
threads  of  popular  interest,  the  mischievous  and  the 
comic  ;  but  that  the  minor  characters  and  episodic  move- 
ments all  tend  to  establish  the  thesis  of  the  main  and 
moral  action.  This  play,  late  as  it  was  written,  rejoices 
in  a  "Sathan"  as  well.  The  dramatic  success,  if  any,  was 
achieved  in  spite  of  the  allegorical  machinery  and  fig- 
ures :  the  Learning  With-Money,  Learning  PPithout-Money, 
etc.  —  also  in  spite  of  the  commonplace  humour  —  the 
humour  of  dress,  of  horse-play,  of  abuse,  of  puerile 
epigram  and  indecency.  The  dramatic  advance  consists 
in  the  local  flavour  of  the  characters,  the  careful  and 
still  varied  reproduction  of  contemporary  life:  William 
with-the-Two- Wives,  for  instance,  who  would  "rather 
have  lesse,"  Nicholl-never-out-of-Lawe,  Sir  Lawrence 
Livingless,  the  priest  who  "knows  not  how  many  planets, 
but  knows  how  many  cards  he  has  when  he  has  played 
seven,"  old  Mother  Croote,  with  her  complaint  of  the 
"holsom  yong  man  of  twenty  year  old  and  three,"  who 
has  deserted  her  for  a  poorer,  younger,  more  enticing 
wench.  The  personages  speak  in  accordance  with  their 

Bodley,  Malone,   163,  qto.;  repr.  Halliwell,  Pop.  Lit.,  XVI  and 
Cents.,  London,  1851. 


3 14       PLAYS   OF   OUR    FOREFATHERS 

characters;  the  Vice  no  longer  directs  his  wit  and 
his  machinations  against  individuals  too  sincere  or  com- 
monplace to  be  ridiculous;  the  satire  has  a  definite  aim 
and  makes  for  it.  Altogether  T.  Lupton's  play  has 
more  merit  than  some  of  its  genus  that  are  better  known. 
In  common  with  all  these  less-known  morals  its  main 
demerit  is  that  it  was  born  too  late. 

They  served  a  purpose  in  the  development  of  the 
drama,  these  posthumous  plays  of  qualities  incarnate; 
they  promoted  the  habit  of  psychological  analysis;  they 
quickened  the  observation  of  the  dramatist,  his  conjec- 
tural faculty,  his  skill  in  plot-invention;  they  whetted  the 
appetite  of  the  public  for  the  tragedy  of  characters  and 
the  comedy  of  humours,  —  the  art  of  Marlowe,  Kyd, 
and  Shakespeare,  of  Robert  Wilson,  Jonson,  Dekker,  and 
Chapman;  the  expression  of  abstract  vice  in  vicious  per- 
sonality, of  abstract  folly  in  social  environment  and 
human  caprice. 


ROMANTIC   COMEDY  315 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

SOME   LESS-KNOWN   FORERUNNERS   OF 
ROMANTIC   COMEDY 

BETWEEN  1560  and  1590  the  drift  of  the  drama  was 
setting  steadily  away  from  the  useful  and  toward  the 
pleasant.  Of  the  ingredients  of  romantic  comedy,  some 
such  as  love  and  ideal  devotion  had  already  found  a  place 
in  the  interlude  as  early  as  1530.  The  inspiration  of  the 
Calisto  and  Melibaea  is  continued  in  the  romantic  friend- 
ship of  Damon  and  Pithias  (1563-1565),  and  the  intrigues 
of  The  Supposes  which  was  acted  in  1566.  Phases  of  the 
marvellous  and  of  the  heroic  had  appeared  in  saints'  plays 
and  school  interludes;  but  there  the  didactic  purpose 
had  generally  managed  to  overshadow  entertainment. 
Now  the  theatre-goer  began  to  revel  in  representations  of 
chivalry  and  sentimental  love,  pomp,  adventure,  necro- 
mancy, and  intrigue,  the  ironies  of  fortune  and  the  chari- 
ties of  mirth,  —  in  short,  the  social  comedy  of  humour  and 
romance. 

The  dramas  of  Edwardes  and  Gascoigne,  and,  of  course, 
of  the  great  forerunners  of  Shakespeare  are  known  to  all. 
About  a  few  of  the  less-known  predecessors  of  the  roman- 
tic comedy  I  should  like  to  say  a  word. 

Of  plays  which  dramatise  the  adventures  of  amorous 
knights  and  distressed  ladies,  —  folk-lore  romances  as 
Mr.  Fleay  calls  them,  —  the  first  to  challenge  our  atten- 


316       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

tion  is  "the  pleasant  comedie  of  Common  Conditions"* 
written  perhaps  between  1572  and  1576,  and  probably 
the  same  that  is  entered  in  the  stationers'  registers  on 
July  26  of  the  latter  year.  Mr.  Fleay  assigns  both  this 
play  and  Sir  Clyomon,  which  will  next  be  considered, 
to  R(ichard)  B(ower),  the  author  of  Apius  and  Virginia. 
Certainly  the  conception  of  the  servitor,  Conditions, 
who  combines  the  mischief-making  characteristics  of 
the  real  Vice  with  qualities  of  the  parasite  and  domestic 
fool,  is  somewhat  the  same  as  that  of  Haphazard  in 
R.B.'s  play  (about  1563).  "Which  ever  way  the  wind 
blowes,  it  is  for  the  commoditie"  of  this  "crafty  counter- 
feit knave";  and,  like  Haphazard  again,  the  "turne  coat" 
of  this  play  would  seem  to  represent  the  shifting  ironies  of 
fortune.  A  peculiar  figure  is  Conditions,  paralleled, 
after  all,  only  by  the  marplot  of  the  somewhat  similar 
"semi-epical  comedy  of  romantic  adventure,"  Sir  Clyo- 
mon. In  spite  of  its  crude  attempt  at  emotional  display 
and  its  rambling  nightmare  of  a  plot,  the  play  of  Common 
Conditions  has  indubitable  merit.  I  have  already  said  that 
it  escapes  the  didactic  ;  it  is  notable  also  for  its  devotion  to 
the  excitements  of  adventure,  its  fresh  situations  and  senti- 
mental loves,  its  romantic  geography,  its  range  of  events, 
of  social  classes  and  typical  characters,  and  for  its  intro- 
duction of  a  phenomenon  found  in  but  few  earlier  plays, 
—  such  as  the  Melibaea,  —  the  heroine  ecstatically  roman- 
tic and  still  in  no  respect  ridiculous.  This  play  presents 
us  with  heroines  not  kept  in  the  background  as  in  the 
Italian-Terentian  comedy  of  intrigue  —  like  The  Sup- 
poses, but  prominent  in  wit  and  interest,  and  easily  on 

1  Duke  of  Devonshire's  library ;  Rpr.  Brandl.  Quellen.  Malone 
says,  in  his  transcript  of  the  play  (Bodl.  Ma/one,  Ms.  36.)  that  it  was 
printed  about  the  year  1570. 


ROMANTIC   COMEDY  317 

a  level  with  the  two  heroes  of  the  story.  The  outcome  is 
parallelism  and  contrast  of  the  pairs  of  lovers,  and  a  fairly 
executed  double  plot.  The  "somewhat  feminiriative" 
Clarisia,  Lomia  the  "natural,"  and  the  love-lorn  Sabia 
are  promising  contributions  to  the  gallery  of  romantic 
portraiture.  But  the  characterisation  of  all  these  figures 
is  inferior  to  that  of  Conditions  himself,  who,  though  he 
may  fall  asleep  "while  lifting  his  legge  over  a  stile,"  is 
wider  awake  in  quip  and  knavery  than  any  preceding  mar- 
plot of  English  comedy.  Tinkers  and  Gilbertian  pirates, 
also,  stand  out  rollicking,  farcical,  but  actual  and  dra- 
matic. Certain  resemblances,  which  may  of  course  be  tem- 
poraneous  or  accidental,  might  be  pointed  out  between  this 
play  and  The  Two  Italian  Gentlemen,  especially  in  respect 
of  style,  the  peculiar  blend  of  humour  and  romance,  and 
the  conversational  and  lyrical  qualities  in  each.  That 
Common  Conditions  had  some  vitality  appears  from 
Kirkman's  mention  of  it  in  his  catalogue  of  I66I.1 

A  considerably  greater  prominence  was  achieved  by  its 
companion-piece,  the  history  of  Sir  Clyomon  and  Sir 
Clamydes,  printed  in  1599,  but  acted  between  1587  and 
I594,2  and  maybe  written  not  long  after  Common  Con- 
ditions. Although  Sir  Clyomon  lacks  perspective,  local, 
logical,  or  chronological,  it  is  not  without  humour  or  dra- 
matic inventiveness.  It  strains  after  novelty  and  revels  in 
surprise.  Like  our  old  friends,  Conditions,  Haphazard 
and  Ambidexter,  the  marplot  of  the  play,  one  Subtle  Shift, 
illustrates  the  dramatic  transition  from  the  portrayal  of 
versatile  Vice  to  that  of  fickle  Fortune,  —  an  effort  con- 

1  Collier's  account  of  the  play  is  inaccurate  ;  and  I  do  not  see  how 
Brandl  makes  out  that  Lomia  is  Conditions  in  disguise. 

2  See  Fleay's  Hist.  St.,  p.  89;  E.  Dr.,  II,  296.    The  attributions  to 
Peele  and  to  Wilson  lack  confirmation ;  while  the  conjecture  of  R.  B.'s 
authorship  is  not  convincing,  although  suggestive. 


3i8       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

genial  to  comedy.  We  are  regaled  by  the  presence  of  a 
heroine  disguised  as  a  page,  of  an  enchanter  and  his 
dragon,  and  of  diversified  monsters,  puppets  and  para- 
phernalia, borrowed  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Faery 
Queene.  It  is  of  just  such  folk-lore  extravaganzas,  Islands 
of  Strange  Marshes  and  Forests  of  Marvels,  that  Peele 
makes  sport  in  his  nearly  contemporaneous  Old  Wives 


For  his  recent  edition  of  the  manuscript  of  one  of  the 
earliest  comedies  of  intrigue  of  the  period  which  we  are 
considering,  we  are  indebted  to  Dr.  Carl  Grabau.  The 
author  of  this  play,  The  Bugbears?  is  unknown.  If  we 
trust  the  evidence  of  the  versification,  it  was  written  be- 
fore 1584  ;  according  to  other  evidence,  certainly  after 
1561.  It  is  a  "contamination"  of  Grazzini's  La  Spiritata, 
and  of  Gl'  Ingannati.  It  revives  the  secret  marriage  of 
the  Andria,  the  buried  treasure  of  the  Trinummus  and 
the  ghost  of  the  Mostellaria.  I  find  the  style  of  con- 
siderable interest  and  the  plot  dramatically  handled.  The 
father  of  Formosus  will  not  consent  to  his  marriage  with 
Rosimunda  unless  she  bring  a  dower  of  three  thousand 
crowns.  But  Rosimunda  is  poor  ;  and  her  lover  has  re- 
sort to  a  strategem.  With  the  assistance  of  a  pseudo- 
necromancer  he  frightens  his  close-fisted  sire  out  of 
the  house  by  a  pretended  obsession  of  ghosts  (the  bug- 
bears), and  steals  from  the  paternal  coffers  the  money 
necessary  to  the  contract.  A  subplot  somewhat  enhances 
the  interest.  The  translator  has  here  and  there  made 
slight  insertions  ;  the  lyrical  passages  and  the  phrase- 
ology of  the  necromancer  and  the  servants  are  distinctly 
English  in  flavour. 

1  Br.    Mus.,  Landsdownc  MSS.,  Vol.    807  ;   Rpr.  Archiv.  d.   n. 
Sprachen,  Bde.  97,  98. 


ROMANTIC   COMEDY  319 

This  burlesque  of  witchcraft  is  found  subservient  to 
a  plot  of  nascent  humours  and  romantic  passion  in  still 
another  play  that  deserves  a  closer  degree  of  attention 
than  has  hitherto  been  vouchsafed  it.  This  is  A.  M.'s 
Fidele  et  Fortunio,1  entered  to  Hackett  for  publication  in 
1584  as  " Fedele  et  Fortuna,  the  Deceipts  in  Love  discoursed 
in  a  Commedia  of  ii  Italyan  gentlemen,"  comedy  of  do- 
mestic intrigue,  like  The  Supposes,  and  like  it  a  trans- 
lation. Though  the  production  is  fettered  by  rhyme,  the 
plot  is  as  entertaining  and  novel  as  any  of  that  date, 
even  the  Campaspe  or  the  Sapho,  both  printed  in  1584. 
The  romance  anticipates  the  circuitous  infatuations  of 
the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.  Virginia  loves  Fidele, 
who  loves  Victoria,  who  loves  Fortunio,  who  loves  Attilia 
(Victoria's  maid).  And  about  this  lady's  maid  the  busi- 
ness also  of  lower  life  centres;  for  Pedante,  the  para- 
site disguised  as  schoolmaster,  and  Crackstone,  the 
swashbuckler  (who  once  sold  butter  and  cheese  to  the 
camp  but  now  is  "captain"),  are  rivals  for  her  favour. 
The  intrigues  are  embellished  by  songs  of  no  ordinary 
charm;  indeed  Fidele's  under  Victoria's  window  "I  serve 
a  mistress  whiter  than  the  snow,"  foretells  from  afar 
Browning's  sweetest  in  the  Blot  i  the  'Scutcheon.  But, 
all  in  all,  the  interest  of  the  action  is  in  the  common  char- 
acters: Attilia  noticeably,  and  Medusa  whose  witchcraft 
aids  to  interweave  the  threads  of  the  play.  The  latter  is 
of  the  lineage  of  Celestina;  she  is  a  worthy  contemporary 
of  Mother  Bombie,  and  a  forerunner  of  the  go-betweens 

1  Probably  Anthony  Munday.  Selections  are  given  in  HalliwelTs 
Pop.  Lit.  XVI  and  XPII  Cents.,  pp.  1 5  et  seq.  If,  as  seems  likely, 
Nashe's  allusion  in  Have  With  Tou,  \  596  (Fleay,  E.  Dr.,  II,  1 13),  is  to 
the  Crackstone  of  the  translation  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  the  play  had 
been  put  upon  the  stage. 


320       PLAYS   OF   OUR   FOREFATHERS 

of  Restoration  comedy.  The  most  characteristic  figure, 
however,  thoroughly  English  in  his  "humour"  is  Crack- 
stone,  —  at  one  and  the  same  time  the  Bobadil  and  Dog- 
berry and  male  Slip-slop  of  the  play.  His  concealment  in 
the  tomb,  his  terror  at  the  "conjurations"  of  Medusa,  his 
capture  in  the  net,  and  his  Xantippean  baptism  are  ad- 
mirable fooling.  This  play  has  various  details  of  simi- 
larity with  another  of  domestic  intrigue  and  romantic 
plot  called  The  Weakest  Goeth  to  the  Wall,  acted,  ac- 
cording to  Mr.  Fleay,  about  the  same  date,  1584  to  1587, 
and  assigned  by  him  to  the  same  author,  Anthony  Mun- 
day.  I  think  it  quite  likely  that  the  author  was  that 
"Antonio  Balladino,"  the  "best  plotter"  of  the  day;  and 
that  he  seized  upon  the  story,  exactly  to  his  taste,  with 
its  young  hero,  its  elopement,  battles,  disguises,  discovery 
and  reconciliation,  not  very  long  after  it  first  appeared 
in  Rich's  Farewell  to  the  Military  Profession,  1581.  The 
Dutch  dialect  is,  however,  of  Dekker's  quality  and  goes 
to  confirm  Dr.  Ward's  suggestion.  Perhaps  Dekker 
collaborated. 

The  "pleasant  and  stately  morals"  known  as  the  Rare 
Triumphs  of  Love  and  Fortune,  The  Three  Ladies  of 
London,  and  The  Three  Lordes  and  Three  Ladies  of  Lon- 
don are  a  distinct  advance  upon  other  plays  of  this 
romantic  kind.  The  latter  two  were  written  by  Robert 
Wilson;  and  I  have  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  to  him  the 
first,  also,  may  be  attributed.  They  are  the  merging  of 
moral  interlude  in  romantic  and  social  comedy;  and 
consequently,  though  I  have  elsewhere  described  them  in 
detail,1  I  cannot  conclude  this  notice  without  a  word  of 
repetition  concerning  their  quality.  In  them  the  "  moral  " 
arrives  at  a  consciousness  of  the  demands  of  art ;  and, 
1  Repr.  Engl.  Com.,  Ixxxviii-ici. 


ROMANTIC   COMEDY  321 

attempting  to  fulfil  its  possibilities,  acquires  body,  spirit, 
and  bouquet,  even  though,  in  the  moment  of  fermenta- 
tion, it  bursts  the  ancient  bottle.  Still  we  must  remem- 
ber that  we  have  reached  the  period,  1580  to  1590,  in 
which  most  of  the  best  work  of  Lyly,  Marlowe,  Peele, 
and  Greene  was  produced;  and  we  must,  therefore, 
not  attribute  to  Wilson  an  importance  greater  than 
that  of  an  industrious  and  inventive  contemporary,  hos- 
pitable to  ideas,  but  essentially  conservative  in  practice. 
He  is  at  once  "father  of  interludes,"  as  interludes  then 
were  regarded,  and  an  intermediary  between  the  interlude 
of  moral  abstractions  and  the  comedy  of  humour  and 
romance. 


21 


SOURCES   OF   THE   CYCLES  323 


APPENDIX 

A.    OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  CYCLES 

In  the  Chester  cycle  there  are  twenty-five  plays.1  The  sources 
of  some  have  already  been  indicated  in  our  examination  of  legends 
like  the  Fall  of  Lucifer  and  the  History  of  the  Holy  Rood.  For 
dramas  treating  of  pre-Christian  subjects,  the  authorities  in  gen- 
eral are  the  Latin  translation  of  the  Bible  by  Jerome,  known  as 
the  Vulgate,  the  Historia  Scholastica  of  the  twelfth-century  French 
priest  Peter  Comestor,  the  Cursor  Mundi,  and  a  thirteenth-century 
version  of  the  French  Mystere  du  Viel  Testament,  the  extant  fif- 
teenth century  copy  of  which  agrees  in  most  matters  of  sequence 
and  motive  with  the  Chester.  In  some  cases  the  playwrights  of 
Chester  seem  to  have  gone  straight  to  Josephus  2  ;  in  others  to 
early  versions  of  the  French  Mistere  de  la  NativitJ  and  of  the 
Passion  of  A.  Greban,  —  elaborated  into  cycles  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. The  Mistere  d' Adam  of  the  twelfth  century  may  also  have 
been  used.  In  some  cases,  as,  for  instance,  the  account  of  a 
dream  of  things  celestial  and  to  come  which  Adam  had  while 
God  was  making  Eve,  a  consideration  of  the  context  3  shows  that 
the  Chester  playwright  drew  not  from  the  Legenda  Aurea  or  the 
middle  English  Genesis  and  Exodus,  but  directly  from  their  im- 
mediate source,  the  history  of  Comestor.  The  more  remote  or- 
iginals of  such  traditions  were,  of  course,  Bede's  Ecclesiastical 
History,  Anglo-Saxon  religious  poems,  the  De  Spiritalis  His- 
toriae  Gestis  of  Bishop  Avitus,  the  Chronograpbia  of  Syncellus, 
the  fifth,  or  sixth,  century  Book  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  its  sources 
in  apocryphal  literature  of  Jewish  origin  —  the  Books  of  Enoch  and 

1  The   texts   are  Wright,  Chester  Plays,   2  vols.,   1843,  Shakespeare 
Society;  and  Deimling,  1893,  Plays  1-13,  E.  E.  T.  S. 

2  e»  g->  Part  °f  the  Balaam  and  bis  Ass. 

8  Ungemach,  Quellen  d.f.  ersten  Chester  Plays,  pp.  51,  79. 


324  APPENDIX 

of  the  Jubilees.  St.  Augustine  and  Gregory  the  Great  were  used 
both  directly  and  indirectly.  Comestor's  account  of  Adam's 
dream  borrows,  indeed,  the  very  words  of  Augustine.1 

When  the  New  Testament  plays  do  not  draw  their  narrative 
directly  from  the  Vulgate,  the  Cursor,  the  Legenda  Aurea  or  Peter 
Comestor,  they  turn  to  early  versions  of  the  French  mysteries  of 
the  Conception,  Nativity,  Passion,  and  Resurrection,  to  mediaeval 
legends,  or  to  the  Apocryphal  New  Testament. 

The  withering  of  Salome's  hand  because  she  had  sacrilegiously 
touched  the  Virgin  comes,  for  instance,  originally  from  the  Gospel 
of  Pseudo-Matthew ;  but  it  also  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  the 
fourteenth  century  Miracle  de  la  Nativit'e  Nostre  Seigneur,  where 
the  names  of  the  midwives  correspond  with  those  of  the  Chester. 
The  story  of  the  Magi  owes  much  to  the  same  Gospel  and  to 
the  Pseudo-Chrysostom  :  it  was  developed  in  the  middle  ages 
into  a  long  and  romantic  legend.  The  events  attending  the 
birth  of  Christ,  where  non-biblical,  are  derived  from  the  Latin 
Gospel  of  the  Nativity  of  Mary,  and  the  Greek  Protevangel  of 
James.  The  sources  of  the  Play  of  Antichrist,  unique  in  the 
English  Cycles,  I  have  indicated  in  my  account  of  that  legend. 

The  fifteen  signs  that  shall  fall  before  the  day  of  doom,  which 
are  recited  in  the  play  of  Ezekiel,  are  referred  directly  to  the 
authority  of  St.  Jerome : 

The  which  were  written  on  a  row 
He  found  in  book  of  Hebrew. 

These  signs  are  variously  given  in  less  known  English  poems,8 
as  well  as  in  the  Cursor,  the  Legenda  Aurea,  and  the  Historia 
Scholastica,  all  of  which  claim  Jerome  as  their  source.  The 
Chester  play,  however,  follows  the  Legenda,  and  that  Peter 
Comestor. 

It  is  singular  that  neither  of  the  main  traditions,  that  of  the 
Cursor  (in  which  the  first  sign  is  of  bloody  rain)  nor  that  of 
Chester  (in  which  the  first  is  of  the  rising  sea)  follows  the  letter 
or  the  order  of  the  Erythraean  Sibyl.  The  immediate  source  of 

1  Gen.  ad.  Lit.,  IX.  13,  Ungemach,  p.  51. 

2  Quoted  by  Wright,  Chester  Plays,  pp.  219-222. 


SOURCES   OF   THE    CYCLES          325 

St.  Jerome's  information  was  undoubtedly,  as  it  was  for  St.  Augus- 
tine, the  famous  Erythraean  acrostic,  lines  217-251  of  the  eighth 
book  of  the  Sibylline  Oracles.  The  content  of  these  was  of  the  signs 
that  should  precede  the  Judgment ;  the  initials  of  the  lines,  how- 
ever, spelled  IH2OT2  XP2ITO2  ©EOT  TIOS  2HTHP 
2TATPO2.  A  Latin  rendering  with  the  last  seven  lines 
omitted,  and  still  preserving  the  acrostic  of  the  rest,  is  given  by 
St.  Augustine  in  his  chapter  on  the  Erythraean  Sibyl  1 :  Jesus 
C(h)reistos,  T(h)eou  Uios,  Soter  ;  and  he  points  out  that  the 
first  letters  of  these  words,  form  the  Greek  ^0u5,  or  fish, —  a 
symbol  of  the  Christ  among  the  Christians  of  the  first  centuries. 
These  Sibylline  lines  were  written  by  a  Christian  of  the  second 
century  after  Christ.  But  they  are  based  upon  similar  prophe- 
cies written  much  earlier.  One  of  them  appears  in  the  third  book 
of  the  Oracles,  lines  796-808,  the  production  of  an  Alexandrian 
Jew  who,  somewhere  between  170  and  140  B.  c.,  is  foretelling 
the  signs  that  shall  herald  the  end  of  things.  Another  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Book  of  Jubilees,  twenty-third  chapter.2  It  recites 
not  exactly  the  same  judgments,  to  be  sure,  as  those  of  the  Chris- 
tian Sibyl,  the  Chester  Play,  or  the  Cursor ;  but  the  judgments  are 
fifteen  in  number.  This  book  was  written  originally  in  Hebrew 
about  135—105  B.  c.  Since  Jerome  frequently  quotes  the  Book 
of  'Jubilees,  I  incline  to  think  that  this  is  his  "  Book  of  Hebrew." 
The  meeting  of  Octavian  and  the  Sibyl  (Chester  Nativity)  is 
dramatised  in  the  Mystere  du  Viel  Testament,  as  well ;  and  is 
traceable  to  the  chapter  on  the  Nativity  of  our  Lord  in  the 
Legenda  Aurea ;  as  is  the  miracle  of  the  fall  of  the  Temple  of 
Peace  which  precedes  the  Octavian  episode  in  the  Chester. 

The  N-Town,  or  so-called  Ludus  Coventrize,3  contains  forty- 
two  plays.  Ungemach  points  out4  that  the  plays  dealing  with 
Old  Testament  subjects  are  as  near  as  those  of  Chester  in  their 
resemblance  to  the  Mystere  du  Viel  Testament.  He  thinks  that 

1  City  of  God,    XVIII.  23. 

2  Verses  1 1,  13. 

8  Edited  by  Halliwell,  1841,  Shakespeare  Society. 
*  Quellen,  Cb.  Plays,  86,  194. 


326  APPENDIX 

both  these  English  cycles  derive  in  some  measure  from  the  same, 
or  a  closely  identical,  French  source  which  stands  historically 
between  the  Representation  d'  Adam  of  the  twelfth  century  and 
the  Vitl  Testament,  Passion,  etc.,  compiled  in  the  fifteenth.  In 
other  respects  the  N-Town  series  would  appear  to  depend 
largely  upon  the  Vulgate,  and  the  apocryphal  Gospels,  especially 
the  Birth  of  Mary,  the  Protevangel  of  James,  and  the  Nicodemus. 
In  the  Barrenness  of  Anna  the  disposal  of  the  curate's  income  is 
from  the  Birth  of  Mary,  I.  3  j  Mary  in  the  Temple  is  from  the 
same  source.  Dr.  Ward  has  called  attention  to  the  frequent  use, 
also,  of  the  liturgy,  of  hymns  and  psalms,  and  scriptural  para- 
phrases. The  scene  of  Lamech  killing  Cain  occurs  also  in  the 
Cornish  cycle,  and  is  fully  dramatised  in  the  play  Du  desespoir 
Cain  et  de  Lameth  qui  le  tua  of  the  Viel  Testament.  It  has  its 
origin,  of  course,  in  the  account  to  be  found  in  Genesis,  but  the 
N-Town  dramatist  may  have  derived  the  elaborated  story  from 
one  of  many  mediaeval  sources  :  the  Legenda  Aurea,  Trevisa's 
translation  of  the  Polychronicon,  Comestor's  Historia  Scholastica. 
The  details  had  been  material  of  English  tradition  from  the  time 
of  the  middle  English  Genesis ;  and  are  ultimately  derived  from 
the  Book  of  Adam.  For  an  exhaustive  study  of  this  and  other 
legends  of  Cain  the  reader  should  turn  to  Professor  Emerson's 
treatise  upon  the  subject.8  In  the  play  of  Mary's  Betrothment  the 
author  has  apparently  dispensed  with  intermediary  legends,  and 
drawn  his  material  from  the  Pseudo-Matthew,  for  there  alone 
could  he  have  found  the  names  of  the  virgins  who  waited  upon 
Mary.  Also  from  that  source,  and  from  the  Pretevangel  of  James 
came  the  Trial  of  Joseph  and  Mary.  The  incident  of  Veronica 
wiping  the  face  of  the  Saviour  "  with  her  kerchy  "  in  the  play  of 
the  Crucifixion  was  material  of  common  tradition  in  the  early  and 
middle  ages.  It  may  be  traced  from  the  Golden  Legend  back  to 
the  apocryphal  Death  of  Pilate. 

That  the  Golden  Legend  is  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  this 
cycle  is  particularly  evident  in  the  case  of  the  play  of  The  Assump- 
tion of  the  Virgin.  The  subject  finds  dramatisation  in  the  York 

1  Oliver  F.  Emerson,  Legends  of  Cain ;  Publications  of  Mod.  Lang. 
Ass'n,  Dec.  1906,  p.  874. 


SOURCES   OF   THE   CYCLES  327 

cycle  as  well ;  but  there  the  authority  seems  to  be  the  apocryphal 
Transitus  Mariae  direct.  At  first  the  N-Town  play  with  its 
successive  episodes  of  wonder  seemed  to  me  to  follow  the  sim- 
ilarly vivid  narrative  of  the  Cursor  Mundi ;  but  an  examination 
of  the  Golden  Legend  (Assumption)^  to  which,  in  the  opening 
stanza,  the  officiating  "  Doctor  "  expressly  refers,  shows  that  not 
only  the  incidents,  but  their  order  and  detail,  the  exact  phrase- 
ology of  the  conversations,  the  Latin  chants,  and  the  authorities 
quoted,  are  practically  a  transcript  from  Caxton's  translation  of 
the  Legenda.  The  play,  which  is  itself  written  in  a  more  recent 
hand  than  the  rest  of  the  cycle,  must  therefore  have  been 
composed  after  1483.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  N-Town 
"  Doctor "  takes  pains  to  inform  us,  in  the  words  of  Caxton, 
that  this  story  which  is  assigned  to  "  Seynt  Ihon,  the  Evangelist  " 
is  "  in  a  book  clepid  Apocriphun"  The  Transitus  Mariae  is,  of 
course,  intended.  Another  account  is  given  in  the  Cursor  Mundi ; 
but  it  varies  greatly  in  details,  and,  as  Dr  Haenisch  has  shown, 
is  an  independent  translation  into  Northern  English  of  an  As- 
sumption written  in  the  South-English  dialect  by  one  Edmund  of 
Pontenay. 

The  York  plays  are  forty-eight  in  number.  Miss  Lucy 
Toulmin  Smith  tells  us  that  "  the  cycle  offers  a  closer  parallel  to 
the  Cursor  Mundi  than  any  of  the  other  collections  :  first,  because 
it  is  more  perfect  and  comprehensive ;  secondly,  because  it  is 
free  from  much  of  the  jocularity  and  popular  incident  which 
were  introduced  into  the  Towneley  and  Coventry  plays."  She 
says  also  that  the  York  plays  "  take  up  the  course  of  the  biblical 
history,  more  especially  of  the  New  Testament,  on  the  same 
model."  It  is,  indeed,  likely  that  in  general  the  design  of  the 
York  cycle  was  influenced  by  the  example  of  the  Cursor,  and  it 
is  the  most  comprehensive  of  the  cycles ;  but  in  the  use  of 
legendary  materials  it  does  not  offer  any  closer  parallel  to  the 
Cursor  than  either  the  Cornish  or  the  Coventry  (N-Town)  plays; 
nor  in  sobriety  of  manner  does  it  surpass  the  Cornish,  N-Town 
or  Chester.  The  York  plays  are  distinguished  by  their  creative 
power.  Naturally  they  depend  upon  the  accepted  biblical 


328  APPENDIX 

sources,  and  such  apocryphal  as  are  in  use  in  the  other  collections: 
The  Pseudo- Matthew ',  the  Protevangel,  the  Gospel  of  the  Birth  of 
Mary,  both  parts  of  Nicodemus  (the  Acts  of  Pilate  and  the 
Descent  to  Hell)  and  the  Transitus  Mariae ;*  but  it  is  impos- 
sible to  discover  the  slavish  dependence  upon  traditional  ecclesias- 
tical histories,  such  as  the  Historia  Scholastica,  and  the  affiliation 
with  continental  mysteries  which  characterise  some  other  cycles. 
The  York  dramatists  —  especially  the  two  to  whom  we  owe  the 
middle  and  later  stages  of  its  production  —  were  imaginatively 
independent,  artistically  equipped  far  beyond  the  measure  of  the 
compilers  of  Cornwall  and  Chester;  far  beyond  the  measure  of 
the  leading  poet  of  the  N-Town,  as  well.  That  romancer, 
while  he  perceived  both  the  pathos  and  the  humour  of  the  material 
at  hand,  had  neither  the  creative  power  nor  the  metrical  skill  to 
improve  his  opportunity.  These  the  masters  of  York  emphati- 
cally had.  And  it  was  from  York  that  the  genius  of  Wakefield 
took  his  cue. 

In  The  Creation  and  the  Fall  of  Lucifer  the  sources  are  some- 
what as  in  Chester.  The  Expulsion  from  Eden  suggests  kinship 
with  the  Representation  d* Adam.  The  sequence  in  the  play  of 
the  Flood)  relative  to  the  appearance  of  the  rainbow  and  the 
prophecy  of  the  catastrophic  world-fire  may  have  arisen  from  a 
reading  of  Comestor,  who  himself  derives  from  St.  Augustine ; 2 
so  also  the  misquoted  prophecy  of  Habakkuk, 

He  saide  oure  Savyoure  shall  be  sene 
Betwene  bestis  lye, 

for  both  the  Historia  Scholastica  and  the  York  Birth  of  "Jesus 
(XIV)  read  Habakkuk  iii,  2,  as  if  the  Vulgate  ran  in 
media  animalium,  or  as  Comestor  has  it  in  media  duorum  animalium 
"  between  two  beasts  ;  "  whereas  the  original  runs,  "  O  Lord, 
revive  thy  work  in  the  midst  of  the  years,  in  the  midst  of  the 
years  (in  media  annorum)  make  known."  But  I  am  not 

1  Lucy  Toulrain   Smith,  York  Mystery  Plays,  Introd.,   xlviii ;  Kam- 
ann,  Die  QuelUn  der  York-Spiele  in  Anglia,  X,  189-226. 
8  Ungemach,  Quellen,  p.  51. 


SOURCES   OF   THE   CYCLES  329 

convinced  that  the  York  dramatists  were  relying  in  these  cases 
on  more  than  the  popular  tradition.  One  of  the  few  instances 
of  a  coincidence  with  the  text  of  the  Cursor  Mundi  concerns  the 
blossoming  of  Joseph's  rod  when  he  is  chosen  to  wed  Mary. 
The  source  of  this  legend  Miss  Smith  and  Dr.  A.  W.  Ward 
give  up.  It  is  found  in  the  Cursor,  line  10,774, 

With  leaf  and  flower  they  found  it  green  : 
A  dove  was  fro  heaven  sent 
Light  down  and  thereon  leant. 

The  legendary  source  is  the  Pseudo-Evangel  of  the  Nativity  of 
Mary,\.  14—17 ;  but  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  York  play  de- 
rived its  inspiration  directly  from  the  Nativity  of  Our  Lady  in  the 
Legenda  Aurea,  which  relates  the  manner  of  the  marvel  in  detail. 

The  prophecies  of  the  birth  of  Christ,  contained  in  the  York 
Annunciation,  are  derived  as  are  those  of  all  cycles  indirectly  from 
biblical  sources,  but  effectively  from  the  "  pseudo-Augustinian 
Sermo  contra  Judaeos,  Paganos,  et  Arianos  de  Symbolo,  probably 
written  in  the  sixth  century,  but  ascribed  throughout  the  middle 
ages  to  the  great  African."  1 

I  have  already  made  reference  to  Mr.  W.  A.  Craigie's  discov- 
ery of  one2  of  the  sources  of  Plays  XXX,  XXXIII,  XXXVI, 
XXXVII,  XXXVIII.  From  the  northern  middle  English  met- 
rical version  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  undoubtedly  came  the 
immediate  diction  and  to  some  extent  the  rhymes  of  such  pa«!  <res 
as  the  following :  the  beadle  doing  homage  to  Jesus  (X^.  \ 
306-319);  the  meaning  of  "Osanna"  (XXX,  346);  the  bowing 
of  the  banners  to  Jesus  (XXXIII,  169);  the  dream  of  Pilate's 
wife  (XXXIII,  159,  177)  >  the  roster  of  the  traducers  of  Jesus 
(XXXIII,  113)  ;  the  testimony  of  Isaiah,  Simeon,  John  the  Bap- 
tist (XXXVII,  48-80) ;  the  account  of  the  eclipse  and  earth- 
quake (XXXVIII,  91-102).  Play  XXXVI,  also,  betrays  one 
or  two  echoes  of  the  metrical  Gospel.  In  all  of  these  cases  the 
verbal  borrowing  is  not  from  the  Latin  prose  text  of  Nicodemus, 

1  Chambers:   Mediaeval  Stage,  II,  52. 

3  The  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  and  the  Tork  Mystery  Plays,  in  Furn. 
Misc.,  p.  52. 


330  APPENDIX 

though  in  general  the  playwright  makes  use  of  that  version  for  the 
sequence  of  the  story.  The  northern  middle  English  metrical 
Gospel  may  be  consulted  in  Horstmann's  edition  from  the  Har- 
leian  MS.  4196.*  The  manuscript  is  of  the  early  fifteenth 
century,  but  the  translation  itself  of  the  first  half  of  the  four- 
teenth. 

The  popular  etymology  of  Pilate's  name  (XXX)  from  his 
"mother  Pila  the  daughter  of  Atus"  comes  straight  from  the 
Legtnda  Aurea,  —  section  on  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord.  The 
restoration  of  sight  to  Longeus  by  the  blood  from  our  Saviour's 
side  appears  in  the  Cursor,  but  is  a  common  tradition  of  the 
middle  ages. 

The  York  Plays  of  the  Death,  and  the  Assumption  of  Mary,  are 
based  neither  on  the  Cursor  nor  the  Legenda  Aurea,  but,  I  think, 
on  one  of  the  middle  English  poems  of  the  Assumption,  or  di- 
rectly upon  the  Transitus  Mariae.  The  Coronation,  however, 
shows  a  closer  resemblance  to  the  Cursor  and  its  incidental 
authority,  the  Assumption  of  Edmund  of  Pontenay,  for  in  both  of 
these  occurs  the  line  (York  XLVII,  156):  "There  I  am  king, 
thou  shalt  be  queen,"  and  the  explicit  statement  that  Mary  "  was 
crowned  queen  of  heaven."  The  power  to  mediate  in  prayer 
accorded  to  the  Virgin  in  the  York  play  of  her  Death,  is  also 
common  to  the  Cursor  and  its  source,  but  is  not  emphasised  in 
the  N-Town  Assumption  and  the  Assumption  of  the  Legenda  Aurea. 
The  story  of  the  Appearance  of  our  Lady  to  Thomas  which  is 
the  subject  of  the  unique  York  XLVI  is  not  given  in  the  Cursor; 
it  appears  however  in  the  middle  English  poems  of  the  Assump- 
tion, is  referred  to  as  "  apocryphum  "  in  the  Legenda  Aurea,  and 
derives  from  the  common  Latin  source,  the  Transitus. 

There  are  thirty  plays  in  the  Wakefield  or  so-called  Towneley 
cycle.2  Except  in  the  case  of  the  legend  of  Judas,  of  which  we 
find  a  fragment  at  the  end  of  the  collection,  I  doubt  whether  the 

1  Herrig's  Archiv,  011,1874. 

8  Towneley  Plays:  the  tezts  are  Raine'sof  1836,  Surtees  Society,  III; 
and  England  and  Pollard's,  1897,  E.  E.  T.  5.,  Extra  Series,  LXXI. 


SOURCES   OF   THE   CYCLES  331 

sources  vary  from  those  of  York.  Of  that  legend  and  its  history 
I  have  said  something  under  the  history  of  the  Rood-Tree. 

Miss  Lucy  Toulmin  Smith  has  pointed  out,  in  her  excellent 
edition  of  the  York  Mystery  Plays,  that  five  of  them  were  in 
whole  or  in  large  part  borrowed  by  the  cycle  of  Wakefield. 
These  plays  in  the  Wakefield  are  VIII,  Pharaoh,  XVIII,  The 
Doctors,  XXV,  The  Extraccio  Animarum,  XXVI,  The  Resurrection, 
and  XXX,  The  'Judgment)-  In  each  case  of  such  indebtedness 
the  omissions,  variations,  and  additions  in  the  Wakefield  would 
indicate  that  the  borrowing  was  made  not  from  the  manuscript 
of  the  original,  but  from  memory, — probably  of  craftsmen  who 
had  taken  part  in  the  acting  of  the  York  cycle. 

An  especially  interesting  example  of  such  interurban  trans- 
mission of  plays  is  furnished  by  the  relation  between  the  York, 
Wakefield,  and  Chester  versions  of  the  episode  of  Christ  with  the 
Doctors  in  the  Temple.  The  original  of  the  series  is  the  York  XX. 
Of  this  the  Wakefield  Doctors  (XVIII)  has  reproduced  apparently 
from  memory  but  with  a  commendable  accuracy  of  phrase,  se- 
quence, and  stanza,  all  from  line  73  to  the  end,  line  288.  The 
errors  that  creep  in  are  just  sufficient  to  show  that  Wakefield  is  the 
borrower.  The  Chester  play,  on  the  other  hand  (Part  II  of  No. 
XI),  is  but  a  reminiscent  jumble  of  the  York.  Into  an  older  play  of 
the  well-known  Chester  stanzaic  form  (aaabaaab)  the  copyist  has 
interpolated,  from  the  York  original,  entirely  different  stanzas,  and 
has  disarranged  phrases,  verses,  and  stanzas  in  the  process.  That 
the  borrowing  is  direct  and  not  by  way  of  Wakefield  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  occasionally  where  Wakefield  has  deviated,  Chester 
has  succeeded  in  recollecting  aright  the  words  of  their  common 
source. 

Beside  these  larger  borrowings  from  the  York  cycle  I  have 
noticed  several  of  more  limited  amount.2  In  the  Wakefield 
Magi,  for  instance,  stanza  100  is  from  the  York  Adoration, 
stanza  27 ;  in  the  Wakefield  Flight  into  Egypt  there  are  some 

1  From  York  XI,  XX,  XXXVII,  XXXVIII,  XLVIII,  respectively. 

8  For  the  indebtedness  of  Wakefield  to  York,  see  also  Hohlfeld,  Die 
alten^l.  Kollectivmysterien  {Anglia  XI)  ;  Pollard,  Introduction  to  Towne- 
ley  Plays ;  Bunzen,  Kritik  d.  Wakefield  Mysterien,  Kiel,  1903. 


33* 


APPENDIX 


thirty  distinct  echoes  of  the  corresponding  play  of  York.  In 
the  Wakefield  play  of  The  Scourging  the  scene  of  John  and  the 
Holy  Women  is  based  upon  the  second  scene  of  the  York  Christ 
Led  up  to  Calvary ;  it  even  preserves  for  us  portions  that  are  miss- 
ing from  the  York  manuscript,  and  have  been  regarded  as  lost.1 
The  Wakefield  play  of  the  Purification  is  at  any  rate  a  reminis- 
cence of  the  York  scene  at  Simeon's  house  in  Jerusalem  (XLI). 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  also  the  scene  between  Mary 
Magdalene  and  Jesus  at  the  end  of  the  Wakefield  Resurrection, 
and  the  succeeding  Wakefield  play  of  The  Pilgrims,  are  fairly 
accurate  survivals  of  discarded  York  plays.  For  they  are  evi- 
dent continuations,  in  the  same  phrase  and  metre,  of  the  simple 
play  of  the  Resurrection,  which  is  directly  derived  from  the  existing 
play  of  York  ;  whereas  the  surviving  York  plays  of  Jesus  and  the 
Magdalene  (XXXIX),  and  of  The  Pilgrims  to  Emmaus  (XI),  are  in 
a  much  more  modern,  alliterative  style,  and  in  a  different  metre. 
The  manuscript  of  the  latter,  indeed,  contains,  after  the  first  few 
lines,  the  Latin  statement  twice  repeated,  "  This  is  of  a  new 
make."  In  this  same  stanzaic  form  (aaabab),  and  in  the 
earlier  style  of  York,  is  written  also  the  fragment  on  the  Hang- 
ing of  Judas  (Suspencio  Judee),  which  closes  the  Wakefield  collec- 
tion. Since  a  distinct  play  of  that  name,  in  which  Judas  hangs 
himself  and  bursts  asunder  in  the  middle,  appears  in  a  list  of  York 
plays,  prepared  about  1415  by  Roger  Burton,  the  town-clerk,  it 
is  very  probable  that  the  surviving  Wakefield  stanzas  of  the  play 
are  a  relic  of  that  original.  To  another  passage  in  this  York 
metre,  preserved  by  the  Wakefield  borrower,  but  missing  in  the 
York  manuscript,  attention  was  called  some  years  ago  by  Mr. 
Pollard.  This  is  the  famous  monologue  of  the  risen  Christ, 
Play  XXVI,  beginning  with  line  226  : 

Erthly  man,  that  I  have  wroght, 
Wightly  wake,  and  slepe  thou  noght ! 

1  Wakefield  stanzas  28,  29,  are  York  10,  12.  W.  30—34  repre- 
sent the  lost  Y.  14-18.  W.  35-42  are  either  an  insertion  or  a  copy 
of  some  older  discarded  play  of  York.  W.  42-48  closely  follow  Y. 
41-29. 


SOURCES   OF  THE   CYCLES  333 

With  bytter  bayll  I  have  thee  boght, 

To  make  thee  free 
Into  this  dongeon  depe  I  soght 
And  all  for  love  of  thee. 

This  exquisite  and  pathetic  plea  occupies  some  hundred  lines  of 
the  Wakefield  Resurrection.  It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  the 
author  of  the  York  original  could  have  foregone  the  opportunity 
for  such  a  speech ;  or  that  the  speech,  as  preserved  in  the  Wake- 
field  copy,  and  in  the  same  phrase  and  stanzaic  form,  should  not 
be  that  of  the  York  original.  Chester,  also,  retains  a  reminis- 
cence of  this  tender  poem,  but,  as  usual  with  Chester,  in  a 
clumsy  paraphrase.  An  earlier  form  of  the  monologue  is  to  be 
found  in  the  middle  English  Harrowing  of  Hell^  where  "  Domi- 
nus  "  begins, "  Harde  gates  have  I  gone."  The  N-Town  Resur- 
rection Play  opens  the  plaint  of  Jesus  with  these  words,  and 
contains  three  or  four  other  parallel  expressions.  The  Wake- 
field  monologue,  on  the  other  hand  (or  its  original  of  York), 
bears  a  closer  resemblance  to  the  famous  Discourse  between 
Christ  and  Man  in  the  Cursor  Mundi  (lines  17,113-17,189), 
where  appear  not  only  the  same  refrains,  "  Sinful  man  that  by 
me  goes,"  "  Sinful  man  for  love  of  thee,"  etc.,  but  frequently 
identical  thoughts,  words,  and  rhymes  in  like  sequence. 

Of  the  contents  of  the  four  Cornish  plays  something  has  al- 
ready been  said.  The  Origo  Mundi  follows  in  some  respects 
the  Cursor  Mundi  account  of  Seth  and  the  history  of  the  Cross- 
Wood  ;  in  others,  it  certainly  borrows  from  the  Latin  Legend^ 
or  some  of  the  early  English  narratives  based  upon  it.  The 
Maximilla  episode  differs  somewhat  from  that  in  the  Cursor  and 
the  twelfth1  and  fourteenth2  century  Latin  versions.  It  more 
closely  resembles  a  middle  English,  Northumbrian  Story  of  the 
Holy  Rood?  which  used  as  its  sources  both  the  original  Latin 
Legend  and  the  Latin  Life  of  Adam  and  Eve.  The  story,  in  the 

1  Cambridge  Univ.  Libr.     Napier,  Holy  Rood-Tree,  41. 

3  Ear  I.  MS.,  3185;  Napier,  54. 

8  Harl.  MS.,  4196;  Morris,  £.  E.  T.  S.,  46. 


334  APPENDIX 

Cornish  Passio  Domini,  of  how  the  smith  refused  to  make  the  nails 
for  the  Rood,  and  pleaded  a  sore  hand  which,  by  a  miracle,  was 
made  to  look  injured  ;  and  of  how  his  wife  would  not  credit  his 
excuse,  and  made  the  nails  herself,  is  also  found  in  the  Northum- 
brian, but  not  in  other  English,  versions.  The  Rood  story,  the 
Harrowing  of  Hell,  —  the  episodes  of  Longinus,  Joseph  of 
Arimathea,  etc.,  as  given  in  the  Resurrection  of  our  Lord,  — 
derive  from  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  and  other  sources,  as  stated 
elsewhere  in  this  book.  The  story  of  Veronica,  and  of  her  part 
in  the  condemnation  of  Pilate,  his  suicide,  and  of  how  the  river 
Tiber  refused  to  hold  him,  is  based  upon  the  Legenda  Aurea  (The 
Passion  of  our  Lord),  or  directly  upon  its  source,  the  apocryphal 
Death  of  Pilate,  a  mediaeval  Latin  production.  In  the  choice  and 
handling  of  incidents  the  Cornish  plays  bear  closer  resemblance 
to  the  (Coventry)  N-Town  than  to  other  cycles.1 

B.    THE  ADVERTISEMENT  OF  LEVITY 

Though  the  miracles  were  amusing  sometimes  by  themselves, 
sometimes  by  virtue  of  adventitious  episodes,  they  nowhere,  so 
far  as  I  remember,  make  profession  of  a  comic  intent.  In  the 
allegorical  dramas,  however,  the  interludes,  and  earlier  comedies, 
so  called,  the  purpose  to  delight  by  means  of  mirth  pervades 
frequently  not  only  the  play  itself,  but  prologue  and  epilogue, 
and  the  advertisement  upon  the  title-page  as  well.  Of  these, 
the  prologue  and  epilogue  generally  speak  the  policy  of  the 
author ;  the  advertisement,  that  of  the  publisher.  It  was  but 
gradually  that  the  begetter  made  bold  to  promise  merriment,  and 
that  comedy  came  to  mean  what  now  it  does. 

As  early  as  the  first  half  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  prologue 
of  the  Pride  of  Life  promises  us  a  "  spelle  of  mirth"  as  well 

1  The  Cornish  text  of  the  Origo,  Passio,  and  Resurrexio  is  given  with 
an  English  translation,  by  Edwin  Norris,  in  The  Ancient  Cornish  Drama, 
2  vols.,  1859.  The  Cornish  text  of  Jordan's  Creation  of  the  World 
(1611)  is  given  with  Keigwyn's  translation,  in  an  edition  by  Davies 
Gilbert,  1827;  also  with  translation  by  Whitiey  Stokes,  1863,  in 
Transactions  of  Philological  Society. 


ADVERTISEMENT   OF   LEVITY        335 

as  of  care.  Of  the  former,  however,  it  gives  us  but  little ; 
whereas  Mankind,  of  the  second  half  of  the  century,  although  it 
makes  no  promise,  for  the  title-page  is  lost,  affords  us  mirth  in 
considerable  quantity.  Wisdom  makes  no  profession ;  nor  does 
Nature,  nor  Mundus  et  Infans,  all  written  before  1500.  But  the 
two  latter,  when  printed  some  decades  later,  were  advertised  as  in- 
terludes goodly,  proper,  and  new.  There  is  more  or  less  fun  pro- 
vided in  all  of  them.  The  Nigramansir,  15  04,  called  itself  both  moral 
and  pithy,  and,  if  we  may  trust  Warton's  account,  the  play  was 
both  sententious  and  entertaining.  It  is,  however,  not  until 
between  1515  and  1523  that  we  encounter  plays  bold  enough  to 
advertise  their  levity.  The  first  of  these  were  Magnificence  and 
The  Four  Elements,  both  of  which  promise  to  be  "mery."  The 
Messenger  of  the  Elements,  also,  justifies  the  dramatist : 

But  because  some  folk  be  little  disposed 
To  sadness  but  more  to  mirth  and  sport, 
This  philosophical  work  is  mixed 
With  merry  conceits  to  give  men  comfort. 

And  this  is  perhaps  the  first  explicit  utterance  of  the  utile  dulci 
to  be  found  in  the  text  of  an  English  drama. 

Every  one  knows  that  Chaucer  had  much  earlier  used  the 
word  "comedy,"  just  as  had  Dante  and  others  before  him,  to 
indicate  any  poetic  narrative  whose  opening  was  sad  or  serious 
and  whose  end  was  happy ;  the  opposite,  in  fact,  of  a  tale 
like  Troilus  and  Creseide,  which  was  called  a  tragedy  because 
"  a  dite  of  a  prosperitie  for  a  time  that  endith  in  wretchednesse." 
But  of  the  term  "  comedy "  as  comic  drama  in  the  classical 
sense,  we  find  no  employment  in  England  before  1386;  of  that 
date  there  is  an  entry  in  a  Cambridge  expense  book  pro  pallia 
brusdato  et  pro  sex  larvis  et  barbis  in  comoedia,1 —  which  savours 
of  Plautus  or  Terence.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  conjectured  that  the 
Latin  elegiac  "  comoedia  "  of  Babio  was  written  by  an  English- 
man, and  that  as  early  as  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  century ;  but 
though  such  responsive  declamations  in  dramatic  form  undoubt- 
edly existed  in  monastery  and  school  at  an  early  date  we  have 

1  Retrospective  Review,  1825,  XII,  7,  and  Creizenach,  p.  454  a. 


336  APPENDIX 

but  scant  evidence  of  their  influence  upon  the  art  or  its  nomen- 
clature. 

We  next  encounter  the  term  in  the  case  of  the  "goodly 
Comedy "  of  Plautus  that  was  played  before  King  Henry  at 
Greenwich  in  1520.  That  this  signification  of  comedy  was  well 
understood  by  1530  is  proved  by  the  use  of  the  word  in  the  pro- 
logue and  epilogue  of  the  English  translation  of  "  that  lytill 
comedy"  the  Andria  of  Terence.  In  1531  when  Sir  Thomas 
Elyot  deems  it  necessary  to  defend  "comedy"  against  the  charge 
of  ribaldry,  he  thinks  of  the  species  in  its  Latin  sense,  though  he 
uses  the  term  synonymously  with  "  enterludes  in  Englisshe." 
Says  he,  "  They  be  undoubtedly  a  picture  or,  as  it  were,  a 
mirrour  of  man's  life,  wherein  ivell  is  not  taught  but  discovered; 
to  the  intent  that  men  beholdynge  the  promptness  of  youth  unto 
vice,  the  snares  of  harlotts  and  baudes  laide  for  yonge  mindes, 
the  disceipte  of  servantes,  the  chaunces  of  fortune, —  contrary  to 
mennes  expectation,  they,  being  thereof  warned,  may  prepare 
them  selfe  to  resist  or  prevent  occasion."  The  apology  empha- 
sizes rather  than  refutes  the  charge  of  merriment  if  not  of 
license.  It  was  about  this  time  that  ".comedy"  began  also  to 
be  used  for  interludes  of  all  possible  kinds,  —  a  fact  that  I  have 
elsewhere  mentioned.  Consequently,  from  1530  to  1581,  plays 
as  different  as  the  Calisto,  the  Johan  Baptystes,  Tyde  Taryeth  no 
Man,  the  Longer  tkou  Livest  the  More  Foole  thou  Art,  All  for 
Money,  and  the  Conflict  of  Conscience  display  without  hesitation 
this  same  seductive  sign,  which,  inferentially,  connoted  not  much 
more  than  an  advertisement  of  wares.  But  good  wine  needs  no 
distinctive  bush  ;  and  the  qualities  that  we  attribute  to  comedy 
are,  from  1530  on,  found  under  the  name  of  "  mery  play"  or 
"  enterlude "  as  frequently  as  under  the  more  ostentatious 
designation.  Such,  for  instance,  is  the  case  with  Heywood's 
farces  and  the  Thersytes.  On  the  other  hand,  a  more  explicit 
profession  of  comic  intent  is  made  by  Roister  Doister,  Jack 
Juggler  and  Tom  Tyler,  the  composition  and  publication  of  which 
fall  between  1545  and  1563.  Of  these  the  first  is,  according  to 
its  prologue,  a  "  comedie  or  enterlude "  presenting  mirth  with 
wisdom,  like  the  "  merrie  comedies  "  of  Plautus  and  Terence. 


ADVERTISEMENT   OF    LEVITY        337 

The  second,  according  to  its  title  of  1562—63,  is  an  "  enterlued 
.  .  .  both  wytte  and  very  playsent,"  and  by  its  prologue,  perhaps 
of  1554,  it  promises  to  interpose  "  tuis  interdum  gaudia  curis." 
With  "  Cicero  Tullius  "  it  commends  the  "  old  comedy,"  and  in 
so  doing  commends  itself.  As  I  have  elsewhere  said,  this 
"  enterlued  "  is  a  very  clever  controversial  satire  as  well.  What 
the  original  title  page  of  Tom  Tyler  advertised,  we  don't  know, 
but  the  Prologue  comes  before  us 

...  to  make  report 

That  after  me  you  shall  have  merry  sport, 

while  the  concluding  song  teaches  that  marriage  is  a  lottery, 

These  checks  of  chaunce  can  no  man  flie 
But  God  himself  that  rules  the  skie. 

In  short,  the  profession  is  of  the  utile  dulcl.  From  1550  on, 
an  increased  number  of  interludes,  such  as  Respublica  and  the 
Disobedient  Child,  take  pains  to  announce  themselves  as  "  pretie  " 
or  "  mery  "  or  both  ;  sometimes  u  frutefull  "  as  well.  It  may, 
however,  be  said  that  by  1566,  when  Gascoigne's  Supposes  was 
printed,  the  name  "  comedy "  in  its  modern  acceptation  was 
usurping  the  place  of  synonymous  designations  for  the  type. 
The  Supposes  is  plain  "  comedy  "  on  the  title-page,  "  comedy  "  in 
the  prologue,  "  comedy  "  under  the  dramatis  persona  ;  and  this 
comedy  is  written  —  without  explanation  or  apology  —  to  give 
"cause  of  delight."  Edwardes  indeed,  about  1564-66,  in  his 
prologue  to  Damon  and  Pithias,  which  he  called  both  "  com- 
medie  "  and  "  tragicall  commedie,"  pretends  to  write  no  more 
"  In  commycall  wise,  — 

.   .  .  and  dares  avouche 

In  commedies  the  greatest  skyll  is  this,  lightly  to  touch 

All  thynges  to  the  quicke ;  and  eke  to  frame  each  person 

so 
That  by  his  common  talke,  you  may  his  nature  rightly 

know." 

The  sobriety  is  a  ruse ;  the  play  has   its  quantum  of  "  sportes  " 
and  of  personal  satire  as  well,  and  is  properly  entitled   by  the 

22 


338  APPENDIX 

printer  in  1571  "an  excellent  comedie."  The  Jacob  and  Esau 
thinks  it  necessary,  in  1568,  to  enhance  its  designation  u  com- 
edie or  enterlude "  with  the  protestation  "  newc,  mery  and 
wittie ;  "  but  that,  I  suppose,  was  intended  to  offset  the  scriptural 
appearance  of  the  subject.  The  term  is  again  broadened  by  the 
epithet  "  tragicall "  in  the  title  of  Apius  and  Virginia,  1575; 
and  it  is  modified  by  u  pleasaunt "  in  the  registration  of  Common 
Conditions,  1576.  The  title-page  of  Gammer  Gurton,  printed,  at 
the  latest,  1575,  reverts  still  more  decidedly  to  the  ancient  style  of 
adjectival  qualification,  but  maybe  this  title-page  was  prepared 
several  years  before  it  was  used  ;  the  play  itself,  written  as  early 
as  1554,  is  as  "  mery  "  at  its  "  last  endyng  "  as  at  its  first.  From 
about  1560  on,  authors  and  printers  rarely  apologise  for  mirth; 
when  "  comedy  "  does  not  stand  for  merriment  alone,  it  portrays, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  decidedly  sombre  Conflict  of  Conscience, 
typical  characters  and  faults  intermixed  with  "  some  honest  mirth 
.  to  refresh  the  minds  of  them  that  be  the  auditors." 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abbot  of  Bon  Accord,  the  reign  of  the,  74 

Abraham  and  Isaac,  the  Brome  play  of,  126, 
146;  pathos  in,  198,  201 

Abraham  et  de  ses  enfants,  de,  described  and 
quoted,  218-222 

Actes  des  Apotres,  description  of  the,  214 

Adam,  the  play  of,  27,  213 

Adam  and  Eve,  the  Book  of,  232 

Adam  and  Eve,  the  Life  of,  265 

Adso  of  Toul,  his  De  Antichristo,  277 

Advent,  date,  material  for  dramatic  treat- 
ment, 6;  28-30 

jElfric,  quoted,  230;  234,243 

.flischylus,  2,  3 

Agony  and  Betrayal,  the  York  play  of  the, 

'54 

Albion  Knight,  300 

Allegorical,  the,  149;  in  the  later  miracles, 
205-206 

All  for  Money,  302,  305,  313 

All  Saints,  or  Hallowmas,  12 

Allusions  to  miracle  cycles  by  contempora- 
ries, 111-113 

Angelic  Hierarchy  and  the  Fall  of  Lucifer, 
the;  described  with  quotations,  224-228 

"Angelic  Orders,"  the  history  of  the,  228- 
236 

Angels  and  the  Shepherds,  the  York  play  of 
the,  158,  184 

Annales  Burtonenses,  84 

Anna  Perenna,  the,  46 

Annunciation,  the,  8,  31 

Annunciation,  the,  164;  quoted,  194 

Antichrist,  29,  30,  32 ;  the  coming  of,  272- 
278;  the  prophecy  of,  272-274;  origin 
and  growth  of  the  legend  of,  274-278 

Antichrist,  the  Chester,  204 

Apius  and  Virginia,  316 

Appendix,  323-338 


Ascension,  the,  9, 19,  20,  32 
Ascension,  the  Wakefield,  161, 162,  164 
Ash  Wednesday,  8,  46 
Assumption  of  Our  Lady,  the,  117 
Authorship  of  miracle  cycles,  108-111 

BALAAM,  28,  33-47 

Bale,  his  God's  Promises  and  John  the 
Baptist,  no;  his  King  Johan,  301 

Baptism  of  Jesus,  the,  96 

Barbarian,  the  miracle  of  the,  63 

Basil  the  Great,  229 

Baston,  Robert,  85 

Bede,  45 

Beginning  of  the  World,  date  and  descrip- 
tion of  the,  126-128 

Beletus,  his  De  Divin.  Offic.,  48;    quoted, 

55 

Beverley  Corpus  Christi,  the,  140 

Beverley  plays,  83-90 

Bodel,  Jean,  his  elaboration  of  St.  Nicholas 
plays,  76-77 

Book  of  Enoch,  232;  quoted,  233  ;  234,  235; 
237;  quoted,  239-242,  243;  266;  quoted, 
267-268,  269 

Book  of  Jubilees,  the,  235,  238,  271 

Borlase,  Natural  History  of  Cornwall,  104 

Bourne,  History  of  Newcastle,  140 

Boy  Bishop,  the,  47;  first  introduced  as 
dramatised  personality  in  the  Mystery 
of  the  Nativity,  54 

Boy  Bishop  and  the  St.  Nicholas  Plays,  the; 
their  origin  and  development  and  de- 
scriptions of  their  presentation  in  Eng- 
land and  on  the  continent,  54-69 

Brand,  Popular  Antiquities,  46 

Brandl,  Quellen  des  Weltlichen  Dramas  in 
England  vor  Shakespeare,  293,  294,  304, 
316 


342 


INDEX 


ten  Brink,  Hist.  Eng.  Lit.,  115,  126,  130, 

136,  285 
le  Brunne,  Robert,  his  version  of  the  Manuel 

tit  Ptchin,  86 
Bustling,  the,  165 
Bugbears,  The,  account  of,  318 
Bunyan,  Grace  Abounding  for  the,  Chief  of 

Sinners  and  Pilgrim's  Progress,  117 
Bunzen,  Zur  Kritik  d.  Wakefald  Mysttrien, 

«35-  '<>S»  33' 

Burlesque,  35,  40,  71 ;  in  the  miracles,  126; 
in  the  later  miracles,  207-208 

Cttiar  Augustus,  the,  164 

Cain,  the,  149 

Calisto  and  Melibaea,  299,  315,  316 

Campaspe,  319 

Candlemas,  8 

Castle  of  Perseverance,  the,  205,  281,  293 

Chambers,  his  Mediaeval  Stage,  14,  20,  25, 

3S>  36»  46,  47,  51'  66>  68»  "7,  «3»  I24» 
131,  138,  329;    quoted,  15-18,  53,  73- 

74,97 

Chansons  des  gestes,  as  sources  of  dramas,  78 

Characterisation,  in  the  French  and  Eng- 
lish plays,  222-223 

Characters,  the  development  of  typical, 
dramatic,  70;  dress  of,  in  miracles,  106- 
107;  development  of,  in  the  Chester 
plays,  151 

Charles,  ed.  the  Book  of  Enoch,  238 

Charles,  ed.  Jub.,  236 

Chaucer,  his  Rime  of  Sir  Thopas,  133;  alle- 
gory in,  205;  his  allusions  to  miracles, 
111-113 

Cherest,  his  Fete  des  Innocents,  66 

Chester  Plays,  the,  26,  30,  90,  146,  149,  150, 
151,  164;  the  Shakesp.  Soc.  ed.  of,  30; 
manuscripts,  authorship  and  dates  of 
the,  128-133;  scope  of  the,  142-143; 
burlesque  in  the,  207;  quoted,  224-228 ; 
observations  on  the  sources  of,  323-325. 

Childermas,  7 

Children  of  Israel,  the  play  of  the,  61 

Christ  in  the  Temple,  the  York,  195 

Christ  Led  up  to  Calvary,  the  York  play  of, 
157,164,177;  quoted,  265 

Christmas,  7, 19,  24, 41 ;  Tropes  of,  24-28 

Circumcision,  the,  7,  35, 41, 48,  53 

Clement  V,  10 

Coliphaacio,  the  Wakefield,  177 


Collier,  Hist.  Dram.  Poetry,  300;  Illustr. 
Old  Engl.  Lit.,  304 

Comedy,  Roman,  i ;  compared  with  tragedy, 
3,  4;  of  Greeks  and  Romans,  4;  cf 
Christian  age,  4 ;  Romantic,  Some  Less- 
known  Forerunners  of,  315-321 

Comic,  The  Influence  of  the,  144-149; 
illustrated  by  the  earlier  plays  of  Corn- 
wall, Chester,  N-Town,  etc.,  149-152 

Common  Conditions,  account  of,  316-317 

Concordia  Regularis,  the,  of  St.  Ethelwold, 

'5 

Conspiracy,  the  Wakefield,  161, 162 
Conspiracy  to  Take  Jesus,  the  play  of  the, 

'54,  »57»  >S8»  '59.  l63»  l64>  '75»  '76 
Construction  of  the  Ark,  the,  96 
Contents,  Table  of,  v-uc 
Controversial  Plays,  300-302 
Conversion  of  Saint  Paul,  the,   139;    the 

fusion  of  saints'  play,  miracle,  and  moral 

in  the,  208 

Cooper,  Dictionary,  288 
Coronation,  the,  117 
Cornish  plays,  the;  date  and  description  of, 

126-128;   scope  of,  142-143;    149,  150; 

observations  on  the  sources  of,  333-334 
Corpus  Christi,   10,  90-94,   115-117,   144; 

dramatic  importance  of,  92;    plays  of, 

83-90,95-117 

Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  283 
Coventry  plays,  the,  26;    manuscripts,  au- 
thorship, and  dates  of,  135-139;   scope 

of,  141-143;  146;   the  transition  to  the 

romantic  in,  191-197;    the  sources  of, 

325-327 

Craft-plays,  origin  of,  89-90 
Crafts,  Regulation  of  the  English  cycles  by 

the,  95-99 
Craigie,  The  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  and  the 

Tork  Mystery  Plays,  329 
Creation,  the,  164 

Creation,  dramatic  representation  of,  31 
Creation  and  of  Old  Testament  History,  the 

description  of  the,  118-120 
Creation  of  Eve,  the  Norwich  play  of  the, 

'4' 

Creation  of  the  World  and  the  Fall  of  Lucifer, 

the,  27 

Creed  Play,  the,  117,  280 
Creizenach,    his    Geschichte    des    Neueren 

Dramas,  20,  29,  30,  77,  335 


INDEX 


343 


Croxton  play  of  the  Sacrament,  description 
of  the,  123-124 

Crucifxio  Crist i,  the  York,  176 

Crucifixion,  the,  8,  20 

Crucifixion,  the  pathos  in  the  N-Town,  198; 
quoted,  199 

Crucifixion,  the  Wakefield,  165 

Crucifixion,  the  York  play  of  the,  157 

Cursor  Mundi,  the,  234,  236,  244,  246,  256, 
259,  268,  271,  272,  274 

Cycles,  The  Secular  Representation  of  the 
English,  95-117;  regulation  by  the 
Crafts,  95-99;  methods  of  presentation, 
99-105;  properties  and  expenses,  105- 
108;  authorship,  108-111;  contem- 
porary allusions,  111-113;  ^*e  sPec" 
tators,  113-115;  the  passing  of  the 
miracles,  115-117;  the  collective  story 
of  the,  118-124;  the  historical  order  of 
the  English,  125-143;  manuscripts  and 
dates  of  the  great,  128-139;  compara- 
tive scope  of  the,  141-143;  the  dra- 
matic development  of  the  English,  144- 
152;  the  historical  order  of  the  plays  in 
the,  148;  curious  traditions  in  the,  224- 
245;  levity  in  the,  334 

Damon  and  Pithias,  315 

Daniel,  44 

Daniel,  the,  of  Hilarius,  27 

Dates  of  the  great  cycles,  128-139 

Davidson,  his  Engl.  Mystery  Plays,  20,  26, 
88,  128,  129,  153 

Death  of  Abel,  the,  149 

Death  of  Pilate,  date  and  description  of  the, 
126-128 

Deposuit,  the  feast  of  the,  48,  56;  burlesque 
in,  40 

Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the,  32 

Devil,  the,  30,  206 ;  development  of  his  per- 
sonality in  the  later  miracles,  210-211 

Didactic,  the,  150 

Digby  plays,  the,  123;  manuscripts,  au- 
thorship, and  dates  of,  139-141;  bur- 
lesque in,  207-208;  development  of 
character  in,  210-211. 

Disobedient  Child,  the,  287,  299,  312 

Disraeli,  his  Curiosities  quoted,  1 14-1 1 5 

Dorner,  System  of  Christian  Doctrine, 
277 

Drake,  History  of  Tork,  100 


Drama,  Mediaeval,  the  origin  of,  1-13; 
modern,  born  in  religious  functions,  4; 
of  the  Passion,  9;  Biblical,  for  amuse- 
ment alone,  32;  secular,  70-82 

Dramatic  Development  of  the  English 
Cycles,  the,  144-152 

Dramatic  relief  in  the  miracle  plays,  146 

Dream  of  Pilate's  Wife,  the  York  play  of  the, 

I54>  1S7 

Dublin  plays,  141 
Du  Cange,  his  Glossarium,  43 ;  his  Kalendae, 

48,  5°»  5r»  55.  59>  67 

Du  Me-ril,  Orig.  Lot.,  20,  24,  25,  27,  29,  34, 
47,  54,  61,  63 

EASTER,  9, 14, 19,  24;  Tropes  of,  14-24 
Ebert,  Jahrb.  f.  rom.  u.  engl.  Lit.,  I,  166- 

167;   Die  engl.  Mysterien,  205 
Edward  the  Confessor,  11-12 
Elyot,  Comcedia,  288 
Emerson,  Legends  of  Cain,  326 
Ency.  Bibl.,  266,  277 
Enfants  sans  souci,  71 
England,  ed.  of  Wakefield  plays,  E.  E.  T.  S., 

'33 

Entry  into  Jerusalem,  the,  33,  35 
Epiphany,  7,  42,  48,  52 
Epiphany,  the  festival  of  the  octave  of,  42- 

43>  48,  5* 

Episcopus  Innocentium,  60 

Episcopus  Nicholatensis,  59 

Episcopus  Nihilensis,  59 

Episcopus  Puerorum,  54 

Eucharist,  4 

Euripides,  2,  3 

Evangelium  Nicodemi,  260;    quoted,  261- 

265;  266,268,270,271 
Everyman,  290,  291,  295 
Expenses  of  miracle  plays,  105-108 
Extractio  Animarum,  the  Wakefield,  161 
Ezekiel,  266,  276 

Fabliaux,  as  sources  of  dramas,  78 

"Fall  of  Lucifer,"  the  history  of  the,  236- 
245 

Farce,  the  origin  and  development  of,  70- 
72;  in  miracles,  126 

Fear  in  tragedy,  3 

Feast  of  Fools,  the,  39, 41-43 ;  its  origin  and 
development  in  England  and  on  the  con- 
tinent, 47-53 ;  69;  secularised,  71-72 


344 


INDEX 


Feast  of  the  Acs,  The;  its  origin  and  de- 
velopment, 33-47;  description  of  the 
service,  36-39 ;  48 

Fttta  Asinaria,  the  Beauvais  m$.  of,  35; 
the  Brit.  Mus.  ms.  of,  35 

Festivals,  opportunity  for  dramatic  repre- 
sentation in,  6 

Ftitum  fatuorum,  the,  52 

Ftttum  ilultorum,  39,  53 

Ffagellacio,  the  Wakefield,  162,  164,  177 

Fidele  ft  Fortunio,  account  of,  319 

Fleay,  Hist.  St.,  302,  304,  306,  317;  Eng. 
Dr.,  319 

Flight  into  Egypt,  the,  33, 195, 198 

Flood,  The,  96,  146 

Folk-festivals,  2,  45-46 

Fool,  the,  70 

Four  Element t,  the,  287,  296,  311 

Fowler,  Roman  Festivals,  41 

Furnivall,  ed.  Digby  Mysteries  (New 
Shakesp.Soc.,VU,  i),  130, 139;  quoted, 
116,  279 

GAS  COIGN  t,  The  Glasse  of  Government,  312; 
The  Supposes,  312,  315,  316,  319 

Gaylcy,  Representative  English  Comedies, 
72, 144,  148, 161, 183,  291,  296,  302,  320; 
The  Star  of  Bethlehem,  1 80 

Gem  Nouvtaux,  71 

Geoffrey,  his  St.  Katharine,  123 

Geta,  2 

Girl  Abbess  and  the  Nuns'  Plays,  descrip- 
tion of  the,  66-69 

Giuliano  da  Cividale,  Cronaca  Friulana,  31 

Gnapheus,  Acolastus,  299,  312 

Golden  Legend,  the,  65 

Good  Friday,  9,  14,  15,  16 

Grabau,  ed.  The  Bugbears,  318 

Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  his  Orations  quoted, 
229,  231,  236 

Gregory  the  Great,  45;  his  Morals  and 
Homilies,  243 

Grosseteste,  Epistolte,  quoted,  53 

HAGENBACH,  History  of  Doctrines,  229,  236, 

244,277 
Halliwell,  Pop.  Lit.,  XVI  and  XVII  Cents., 

313,  319;  ed.  Lucius  Coventrue,  325 
Hallowmas,  12 
Harrowing  of  Hell,  The,  246 


Harrowing  of  Hell,  The,  96, 1 57 ;  date  of ,  1 25 

Herod,  the  Autun  play  of,  43  ;    164 

Herttrich,  Studien  ««.  d.  Tork  Plays,  155 

Heywood,  72,  182 

Heywood's  allusions  to  miracles  in  the  Four 
PP.,  113 

Higden,  Randall  or  Randulf,  probable 
author  of  Chester  plays,  108-109,  132 

Hilarius,  27,  63;  his  Daniel  and  St.  Nicho- 
las, 123 

Historical  Order  of  the  English  Cycles,  the, 
125-143 

History  of  the  Living  Church,  description  of 
the,  122-123 

Hohlfeld,  Die  altenglischen  Kollektivmiste- 
rien,  128,  129,  132,  138,  139,  175,  205, 

331 

Holy  Cross,  the,  10 
Holy  Cross,  the  Exaltation  of  the,  1 1 
Holy  Innocents  and  St.  Nicholas,  Plays  of, 

61-66 

Holy  Innocents'  Day,  7,  41 
Holy  Rood-Tree,  see  Oil  of  Mercy 
Holy  Thursday,  9,  28 
Holy  Week,  8-9,  14,  20 
Hone,  his  Ancient  Mysteries,  43,  49-50,  66; 

quoted,  87 
Heresies,  the,  304 
Horrible,  the,  146 
Hosanna,  the  pageant  of  the,  46 
Hrosvitha,  2 

Humorous,  The  Invasion  of  the,  33-53 
Humour,  of   the   incidental,    148;    of   the 

essential  or  real,  148;    of  the  satirical, 

148;   the  York  school  of,  153-160;  the 

Wakefield  Master's  relation  to  the  York 

school  of,  166-173 
Hyckescorner,  296 

IMAGINATION  in  French  plays,  223 

Innocents,  the,  25 

Innocents'  Day,  50,  57,  60 

Interludes,  their  relation  to  Morals,  283- 
292;  dramatic  qualities  of  survivals  of, 
299-314;  controversial  interludes,  300- 
302;  artistic  variations  of  the  interludes, 
302-314;  levity  in,  334-338 

Isaac,  the,  164 

Jacob,  the,  164 

Jacob  and  Esau,  date  of,  125-126 


INDEX 


345 


Jesus  before  Caiaphas,  the  York  play  of, 

'54 

Jordan,  his  Creation  of  the  World,  127 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  260-265 
Joseph"!    Trouble   about    Mary,  the  York, 

194 

Journey  to  Bethlehem,  the  York,  195 
Jude,  quoted,  242 
Judgment,  Christ's,  32 
Judicium,  the,  12,  161,  164,  177,  204 
Julleville,  Petit  de,  20,  213;  his  Hist,  de  la 

langue  el  de  la  lilt.  Franc,.,  215-216;  his 

Le  Theatre  en  France,  70-72,  215-216; 

his  La  comedie  et  les  mceurs  en  France  au 

moyen  age,  280 

KAMANN,  Die  Quellen  d.  Tork  Plays,  Anglia 

X,  155,328 

Kidnapped,  the  play  of,  61 
Kyllynge  of  the  children  of  Israeli,  the  Digby 

play  of  the,  126,  207 
Kyng  Daryus,  301 

Latemur  gaudiis,  the,  49 
Last  Supper,  the  York  play  of  the,  158 
Latin  in  liturgical  plays,  the  use  of,  125 
Lazarus,  the  Wakefield,  quoted,  203-204 
Leach,  his  Beverley  Town  Documents,  140; 
his  Furnivall  Miscellany,  84,  87,  90,  99, 
116,  131,  140,  280;  quoted,  53,  83,  95- 
96,  98,  109-1 10;  his  Some  English  Plays 
and  Players,  21—22,  23,   280;    his  The 
Schoolboys'"  Feast,  in  Fortnightly,  Jan., 
1896,  56,  68 
Lent,  8 

Levity,  the  advertisement  of,  334-338 
Life  and  Repentaunce  of  Marie  Magdalene, 

the,  303,  308,  311 
Like  Will  to  Like,  288,  303,  306 
Lincoln  plays,  83-90,  140 
Lincoln  Statutes,  quoted  from   Chambers, 

53 

Little  John,  74 

Liturgical  Plays,  The  Evolution  of,  14-32; 
from  the  Resurrection  Trope,  14-24; 
from  the  Christmas  Trope,  24-28; 
Shrewsbury  School  ms.  of,  26;  from  the 
Tropes  of  Advent,  Ascension,  etc.,  28- 
32;  the  transition  of,  83-94;  from 
Church  to  Guild,  83-90;  Whitsuntide 
and  Corpus  Christi,  90-94 


London  plays,  140 

Longer  thou  Livest,  290,  291,  302,  303,  310 
Lord's  Prayer,  the  Play  of  the,  280,  282 
Lucifer,  The  Fall  of;  described  with  quota- 
tions, 224-228 ;  the  history  of,  236-245 
Ludus  Filiorum  Israel,  61,  90,  126 
Lyndsay,  Satyre  of  the  Thrie  Estaitis,  291 

MACRorrDius,  the  Asotus,  312;  the 
Rebelles,  312 

Mactacio  Abel,  the,  164,  165;  description 
of,  184-186 

Magi,  the,  25,  33,  41,  42,  43 

Mankind,  284,  290,  291 

Manly,  Specimens  of  Pre-Shakeipearian 
Drama,  141 

Manners  in  the  York  plays,  the  reproduc- 
tion of,  158,  161-179;  in  York  and 
Wakefield  plays,  173-179 

Man  of  Sin,  the,  29 

Mariolatry,  77 

Marriott,  Engl.  Mir.  PI.,  109 

Mary  Magdalene,  plays  of,  67-69 

Mary  Magdalene,  the  fusion  of  Saint's  play, 
miracle,  and  moral  in  the,  208 

Mary  plays,  75-82 

Mary  the  Virgin,  the  visitation  of,  to  Eliza- 
beth, 10;  the  nativity  of,  11,190-197,201 

Massacre  of  the  Holy  Innocents,  the,  51 

Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  the,  25,  61,  96, 
139,  204 

Maundy  Thursday,  9,  15,  16 

Melton,  William,  "Professor  Paginte 
Sacrte,"  85 

Methods  of  Presentation  of  English  Cycles, 
99-105 

Meyer,  Vita  Ada  et  Eva,  258,  268,  270 

Michael  HI  of  Constantinople,  35 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  117 

Ministry  of  Christ,  description  of  the,  121 

Miracle  Cycles,  The  Secular  Representa- 
tion of  the  English,  95-117  (see  Cycles); 
the  collective  story  of  the,  118-124;  thc 
historical  order  of  the  English,  125-143; 
manuscripts  and  dates  of  the  great,  128- 
139;  comparative  scope  of  the,  141-143; 
the  dramatic  development  of  the  Eng- 
lish, 144-152;  historical  order  of  plays 
in  the,  148;  the  characteristics  of  the 
later,  205-212;  curious  traditions  in  the. 
224-245;  levity  in  the,  334 


346 


INDEX 


Miracle  plays,  26,  27;  their  growth  from 
sacred  dramas,  31;  de  Nostre  Dame, 
origin,  development,  and  descriptions 
of  the,  75-81;  origin,  authorship,  and 
popular  development  of  the,  the  co- 
operation of  clergy  and  guilds  in  the, 
83-90;  cyclic,  at  Skinners'  Well,  88; 
as  units  and  as  cycles,  118;  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  later,  205-212;  their 
relation  to  morals,  279-283 

Mirth  plays,  299 

Misrule,  Lords  of,  73 

Mission  of  Seth  and  the  Promise  of  the  Oil, 
the,  247-249;  sources,  256-259 

Mock-ideal,  the,  149;  in  the  later  miracles, 
206 

Moliere,  Precieuses  Ridicules,  117 

Moral  Interlude,  The  Less-known  Sur- 
vivals of  the,  299-314;  dramatic  quali- 
ties of,  300-314 

Morality  of  the  Wisdom  that  is  Christ,  the 
Digby  play  of  the,  139 

Morals,  their  relation  to  miracles,  279-283; 
their  relation  to  interludes,  283-292  ; 
the  older,  dates  of  and  their  contribution 
to  the  drama,  293-298;  levity  in,  334- 
338 

Morfill,  ed.  the  Book  of  the  Secrets  of  Enoch, 
231-236 

Morris,  ed.  Legends  of  the  Holy  Rood,  257 

Mortifcacio,  the  York  play  of  the,  157,  158, 
159,  160,  162,  163 

Moses,  the  Apocalypse  of,  265-266,  268, 
270 

Mundus  et  Infans,  287,  290,  295,  310 

Mystere,  definition  of  the,  213 

Mystere  de  la  Nativite  du  Christ,  the  Bene- 
diktbeuern  play  of  the,  47,  54 

Mystere  des  Propheies  du  Christ  of  Limoges, 

27 

Mystere  du  Viel  Testament,  description  of 
the,  214;  compared  with  English  plays, 
217-223 

Mysteries  in  France,  the,  definition,  descrip- 
tion, and  comparison  with  the  English 
miracles,  213-223 

Mystery  of  the  Prophets  of  Christ,  The,  of 
Limoges,  34 

NAPIER,  the  Holy  Rood-Tree,  256,  259,  333 
Nativity,  description  of  the,  120-121 


Nativity,  the,  19,  32,  43 

Nature,  287,  290,  296 

Newcastle  plays,  140 

Newt  Custome,  the,  287,  300 

Nice  Wanton,  the,  291,  299,  308,  310,  312 

Nicodemus,  The  Latin  Gospel  of,  157,  260; 

quoted,   261-265;    2^6»  *68»  27°»  *7'i 

quotsd,  275 
Nigramansir,  the,  295 
Noah's  Ark,  the  Newcastle  play  of,  140 
Noah's  Flood,  the,  149 
Noe  and  His  Wife,  the  York  play  of,  154, 

158;  the  humour  of,  166-168 
Norm,   Ancient   Cornish   Drama,   quoted, 

102-104;  "6,  334 
Norwich  plays,  141 

Ncuvtau  Testament,  description  of  the,  214 
Novus  annus  hodie,  the,  49 
N-Town  cycle,  the,  128;   manuscripts,  au- 
thorship, and  dates,  135-139;  scope  of, 

141-143 
N-Town  plays,  the,  146,  149,  150,  151;  the 

transition  to  the  Romantic  in,  191-197; 

allegory  in,  205;    observations  on  the 

sources  of,  325-327 

Officium  Circumcisionis  of  the  cathedral  at 

Sens,  39-40,  47 
Officium  Pastorum,  25 
Officium  Trium  Regum,  25 
Oil  of  Mercy  and  the  Harrowing  of  Hell, 

The,    260-271;     account    of,   260-265; 

sources  of,  265-271 
Oil  of  Mercy  and  the  Holy  Rood-Tree,  the, 

246-259;  introduction,  246;  description 

with  quotations,  247-256;  sources,  256- 

259 

Ordo  representation!?  Ada,  27 
Orientis  partibus,  the,  49 
Origo  Mundi,  the  Cornish,  268 

PAGEANTS,  description  of  and  dramatic 
quality  of,  88-90 

Pagina  Doctorum,  the  Wakefield,  161 

Palm  Sunday,  33,  44 

Palm  Sunday  Festival,  description  of  the, 
44-46;  relation  to  folk-festivals,  45 

Paris,  Gaston,  et  Robert,  Ulysse,  ed.  Mira- 
cles de  Nostre  Dame,  75 

Parody,  71;  of  the  holy  communion,  35 


INDEX 


347 


Passion,  the,  8,  20,  32 

Passion,  the  description  of  the,  I2I-I22 

Passion  at  Valenciennes,  description  of  the, 

215-216 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  date  and 

description  of  the,  126-128 
Passion  Play,  at  Lichfield,  21 ;  at  the  Bene- 

dictbeuern  monastery,  21 ;  at  Siena,  21 ; 

at  Padua,  21 

Pastime  of  Pleasure,  the,  282 
Paternoster  Play  of  York,  90,  117,  280 
Pathetic,  the,  146,  148 
Pathos,  in  miracles,  126;    in  French  and 

English  plays,  217-222 
Pathos  and  Sublimity,  The  Elements  of, 

198-204 
Peacock,  The  Wakefield  Mysteries  (Anglia 

XXIV,  509),  228 
Pedlar,     Appendix     to     Norris,     Cornish 

Drama,  127 
Pentecost,  31 

Personality  in  the  later  miracles,  the  de- 
velopment of,  210-211 
Peters  Denial,  the  York  play  of,  154 
Fez,  Thesaurus,  Anecdot.  Noviss.,  30 
Pharao,  the  Wakefield,  161 
Pierre  de  Corbeil,  39-40,  53 
Pity  in  tragedy,  3 
Plautus,  2 
Pollard,  his  Engl.  Miracle  Plays,  129,  133, 

288;    quoted,  134,  136;    his  Towneley 

Plays,  126,  135,  166,  331;  quoted,  165 
Pride  of  Life,  the,  281,  284,  290,  291,  293 
Prima  Pastorum,  the,  180-181, 189 
Prince  des  Sots,  71 
Processio  Asinorum,  at  Rouen,  43 
Processio  Cruets,  the  Wakefield,  quoted,  200 
Processio  prophetarum,  35,  43-44 
Processus   Noe,    165;     description    of   the 

Wakefield  play  of,  168-173 
Processus  Prophetarum,  description  of  the, 

120-122  ;   164 
Processus    Talentorum,   description   of   the 

Wakefield,  186-190 
Prodigal  Son  Plays,  299 
Properties  of  miracle  plays,  105-108 
Prophets,  the  play  of  the,  26,  33 
Prose  of  Fools,  the,  39,  49 
Prose  of  the  Ass,  the,  36-39,  40 
Pseudo-Dionysius,  his  Celestial  Hierarchy, 

229-230,  231 


Purchase  of  the  Field  of  Blood,  the  York 

play  of  the,  154 
Purification,  the,  164,  193 

Querolus,  2 

Rare  Triumphs  of  Love  and  Fortune,  320 

Realism,  in  miracles,  126;  the  York  school 
of,  153-160;  of  the  Wakefield  master, 
173-179;  in  the  later  miracles,  209 

Realistic,  the,  147,  150,  152 

Respublica,  the,  287,  290,  300 

Resurrectio  Domini,  the  Wakefield,  161 

Resurrection,  the,  9,  14-24,  32 

Resurrection,  the  York  play  of  the,  157, 158 

Resurrection  and  Ascension,  the  Cornish 
play  of  the,  127 

Resurrection  Play,  at  Beverley,  21-24 

Revelation,  242,  273,  275-277 

Revels  of  Misrule,  English,  origin,  develop- 
ment and  descriptions  of,  72-75 

Rhyme  in  the  York  plays,  158-160 

Rhyme-system  of  Wakefield  plays,  161- 
166 

Robin  Hood  Plays,  74 

Rogers,  Archdeacon,  quoted  from  Wright's 
ed.  of  the  Chester  plays,  100-101 

Romania  xrii,  29 

Roman  Kalends,  the  festival  of  the,  40 

Romantic,  the,  146,  148;  the  transition  to, 
191-197;  elements  of,  in  early  plays,  315- 

3" 
Rutebeuf,  his   Th'eophile,  77 

Sacrifice  of  Isaac,  the,  126 

Sacrifcium  of  Cay  me  and  Abel!,  the  York 

play  of  the,  154,  158 
St.  Anne,  n 

St.  Augustine,  26;  quoted,  229 
St.  Bartholomew,  u 
St.  Catherine,  Feast  of,  69 
St.  Crispin,  n 
St.  David,  8 
St.  Ethelwold,  15-19 
St.  Gall  Trope,  of  the  Resurrection,  18-19; 

of  the  Nativity,  25 
St.  George,  9,  74 
St.  James  the  Greater,  10 
St.  Jerome,  2 
St.  John,  20 


INDEX 


St.  John  the  Baptist,  Nativity  of,  10;   be- 

headal  of,  11 

St.  John  the  Evangelist,  51,  51 
St.  Lawrence,  n 
St.  Martin,  11 

St.  Mary  Magdalen,  the  Digby  play  of,  139 
St.  Mary  Magdalene,  10,  20 
St.  Matthew,  11 
St.  Michael  and  All  Angels,  n 
St.  Nicholas,  7,  58,  59,  60 
St.  Nicholas,  the,  113 
St.  Nicholas,  description  of  the  Fleury  play 

of,  61-63;    description  of  the  Hilarius 

play  of,  63-65 
St.  Nicholas  Plays,  the,  54-69;   efforts  to 

suppress  them,  65-66;   their  relation  to 

the  Feast  of  Fools,  66;   elaborations  of, 

76-77 

St.  Patrick,  8 

St.  Paul,  Second  Thessaloniant,  175-176 
St.  Stephen,  51,  51 
St.  Thomas,  the,  164 

Saints'  Festivals,  dates,  material  for  dram- 
atic treatment,  6-13 
Saints  Peter  and  Paul,  10 
Saints'  plays,  the  secularisation  of,  76 
Salutation,  the,  164,  193 
Sapho,  319 

Satire,  of  the  Wakefield  master,  the,  177 
Satire  and  wonder,  secular  by-products  in, 

70-82 

Scenic,  the,  149 
Scouring,  the  Wakefield,  176 
Second  Shepherds'  Play,  the,  146 
Secrets  of  Enoch,  the,  231,232;  quoted,  233- 

136,  242,  269-270 
Secular  by-products  in  satire  and  wonder, 

description  of,  70-8 1 ;  their  importance 

for  dramatic  development,  81-82 
Secunda  Pastorum,  description  of  the,  180- 

184  ;  189,  191 
Sensational,  the    149 
Sermons  joyeux,  70,  72 
Shakespeare's  debt  to  the  miracles,  197 
Sharp,  A  Dissertation  on  the  Pageants  or 

Dramatic  Mysteries,  anciently  performed 

at  Coventry,  quoted,  99  ;  102,  104,  105, 

117,  138,  140 

Shepherds,  the,  25,  165,  191 
Shepherds  and  the  Star,  the  96 
Shipwrights'  Play,  The  Newcastle,  107 


Signs  ef  Judgment,  the,  16 

Sir  Clyomon  and  Sir  Clamydes,  316;  ac- 
count of,  317-318 

Skeat,  The  Locality  of  the  Towneley  Plays 
(Athenaeum,  3449,  Dec.  2,  1893),  135 

Skelton,  Magnyfyctnce,  287,  291,  295 

Smith,  Tork  Mystery  Plays,  117,  133,  280, 
317-318,  331 

Societts  joyeuses,  ^\ 

Sophocles,  3 

Sots,  71 

Sottie  and  farce,  Origin  and  development 
of,  70-71 

Sources  of  traditions  in  the  miracle  plays, 
265-271 

Spectators  of  English  cycles,  the,  113-115 

Strutt,  Manners  and  Customs,  toi 

Stymmelius,  the  Studentes,  312 

Sublime,  the,  148 

Sublimity,  The  Elements  of  Pathos  and, 
198-204 

Suffering  Christ,  the  Xpio-rot  fdffxu*,  2 

Surprise,  in  the  later  miracles,  207 

Symbolism  in  the  later  miracles,  206-207 


Talents,  the  Wakefield,  176,  184-185;  de- 
scription of,  186-190 

Terence,  2 

Thersytes,  182,  299 

Thiers,  his  Trahe  des  Jeux,  66 

Three  Children,  the,  43 

Three  Famished  Girls,  the  miracle  of  the, 
63 

Three  Kernels  and  the  History  of  the  Cross- 
Wood,  the,  249-256;  sources,  256-259 

Three  Kings,  the,  96 

Three  Kings  of  Cologne,  the,  98 

Three  Ladies  of  London,  The,  320 

Three  Lordes  and  Three  Ladies  of  London, 
The,  320 

Three  Schoolboys,  the  miracle  of  the,  63 

Tom  Tyler,  181 

Towneley  plays,  manuscripts,  authorship, 
and  dates  of  the,  133-135;  scope  of  the, 
142-143 

Traditions  in  the  Cycles,  Curious,  114-245; 
246-178 

Tragedy,  Greek,  i,  3;  compared  with 
comedy,  3;  religious  motive  of,  3;  in 
the  miracles,  204 


INDEX 


349 


Transubstantiation,  dramatic  element  in  the 

doctrine  of,  5,  u 
Trial  before  Herod,  the  York  play  of  the, 

154,  IS7,  IS8 
Trial  of  Joseph  and  Mary,  146;  description 

of  the,  196-197 

Triall  of  Treasure,  the,  303,  305,  307 
Trinity  Sunday,  10 
Tropes,  in  Church  Ritual,  14-32;  fusion  of, 

in  Orleans  and  Freising  mss.,  25,  26 
Twelfth  Day,  7 
Tyde  Taryeth  no  Man,  302 
Tzetzes,  Johannes,  2 

UNGEMACH,  Quellen  d.  funf  ersten  Chester 
Plays,  230,  323,  324,  325,  328 

VERGIL,  26 

Vernacular  in  the  miracle  cycle,  the  use  of 

the,  125;  in  the  Wakefield  plays,  150 
Versification  in  Wakefield  plays,  161-166; 

in  York  plays,  154-166;   in  the  French 

plays,  223 

Vita  Ada  el  Eva,  257-259,  268 
Voragine,  Legenda    Aurea,  244-245,    246, 

257,  2?i,  272,  274 
Vulgate,  the,  19 

WAKEFIELD  Master,  the,  160,  161-190;  his 
relation  to  the  schools  of  York,  161-166; 
his  relation  to  the  school  of  humour,  166- 
173 ;  his  relation  to  the  school  of  realism, 
173-179;  his  masterpiece  and  other 
attributions,  180-190  ;  193  ;  222 

Wakefield  plays,  manuscripts,  authorship, 
and  dates  of  the,  133-135;  scope  of  the, 
142-143  ;  146,  149,  150;  the  master  of 
the,  161-190;  the  versification  of  the, 
161-166;  their  relation  tp  the  York  plays, 


161-179;  quoted,  228;  observations  on 
the  sources  of,  330-333 
Ward,   English   Dramatic   Literature,    125, 

Ia9>  *33>  '38>  283>  285 
Warton,  Hist.  Engl.  Poet,  109 
Weakest  Goeth  to  the  Wall,  the,  account  of, 

320 

Whitsunday,  9,  28,  31 
Whitsuntide  and  Corpus  Christi  Plays,  90- 

94;   times  of  production,  91;   places  of 

production,  93-94 
Winchester,  early  ritual  of,  14-19 
Wisdom  that  is  Christ,  the,  294 
Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins,  the,  29-30 
Wit  plays,  299 
Witte  and  Science,  299,  302 
Witte  and  Wisdome,  287,  299,  307 
Wonder,  secular  by-products  in  satire  and, 

70-82;  the  element  of,  126,  148 
Woodes,  the  Conflict  of  Conscience,  301-302 
Wright,  his  ed.  of  Chester  Plays,  100,  323, 

3M 

Wright  and  Halliwell,  Reliquite  Antiques, 
285 

YORK  CYCLE,  the,  26  (see  York  plays) 

York  plays,  85,  90, 146, 149,  150, 151 ;  man- 
uscripts, authorship,  and  dates  of,  128, 
133;  scope  of,  141-143;  schools  of 
humour  and  realism  in  the,  153-160; 
versification  of  the,  154-160,  161-166; 
the  Wakefield  master's  relation  to  the, 
161-179;  the  transition  to  the  romantic 
in  the,  191-197;  observations  on  the 
sources  of,  327-330 

York  Schools  of  Humour  and  Realism,  the, 
153-160 

Youth,  the  Interlude  of,  299 

Youth  plays,  299 


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